Katniss and Cato: Love in Dangerous Circumstances
by RichardJ
Summary: Katniss and Cato have made it through the 74th Hunger Games and the failed winter uprising in District Eight. Now their love and passion for each other must survive the 75th Hunger Games. Yet again Katniss must struggle to keep her clothes on. This third series of 6 or 7 part stories is a sequel to Katniss and Cato: Love in Dangerous Times, but can be read as a standalone series.
1. 1-1 Only myself to blame

Suzanne Collins is acknowledged as the creator of the Hunger Games characters and story.

This third series of 6 or 7 part stories is a sequel to _Katniss and Cato: Love in Dangerous Waters_ s/10188003/1/ and _Katniss and Cato: Love in Dangerous Times_ s/10504936/1/ , but can also be read as a standalone series.

Episode 1: Preparations

1.1: Only myself to blame

I gently rub the scented oil over my skin, taking care to cover all the difficult to reach places. I've only myself to blame for having to go through these preparations once a week, although I hadn't expected to be doing so this week. I had a bet with Cato that I could describe how a young woman should be properly prepared for the delectation of her man. I boasted it would please him more than the numerous preparations described in the ornate book Zoe's grandmother translated for us. 'The Journal of the Harem-keeper of Prince Ahmed's Harem' has a new addition; written by yours truly, Katniss Everdeen. I won my bet.

Not that I mind doing this in the least. The effect on Cato is incredible and his reaction makes all my effort worthwhile. If I once thought the presence of our baby daughter, Katniss Christine … or Kaycee as we have started calling her … might restrict Cato and my lovemaking in any way, then that myth was soon dispelled. Obviously Cato and my time spent in passion has altered somewhat over the last three months since Kaycee's birth. It is difficult to ignore Kaycee when she wants a feed even when I'm lost in the throws of passion. And handling a smelly diaper can be a real passion killer. But Cato and I have adapted. While our games aren't quite as noisy and rough as they once were, they are still very physical and every bit as satisfying.

Having two Katniss Everdeen's in the family can be confusing. Cato is partly to blame when he took my surname when we were legally married, rather than I taking his. Of course, if President Snow and all his supporters have their way, there will soon be only one Katniss Everdeen anyway. My execution for murder and treason should have occurred at Fort Centennial two days after I gave birth to Kaycee. But the announcement of the selection criteria for the 75th Hunger Games forced a major change of plan. I'm the only person eligible to be the female tribute for District Twelve, and even then only after President Snow formally quashed my death sentence and annulled all criminal charges against me for my involvement in the failed winter uprising in District Eight. I've been free for nearly three months. I don't delude myself into thinking I will be allowed to repeat what happened at the end of the 74th Hunger games and escape from the arena. Nor do I believe President Snow and the Gamemakers will ever allow me to be the victor of the 75th Hunger Games. I'm mentally prepared for what awaits me. Not that I intend to meekly allow them to kill me. I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.

The only restriction on my movements since my release from Fort Centennial is the requirement for me to report once a week to either the army or the peacekeepers. The Gamemakers are paranoid that I might try to escape. I concede that I am a danger to their fragile plans for the 75th Hunger Games, but not in the way they think. When the selection criteria for the 75th Hunger Games were announced, the Gamemakers panicked in full view of the television viewers all across Panem. They had reason to panic. Someone had overridden their sophisticated security system and changed the tribute selection criteria without their knowledge. As a result there's a new head Gamemaker; Plutarch Heavensbee. When I first heard the announcement of the selection criteria, I was as baffled as the Gamemakers about why President Snow would sanction what was publicly announced. Not that I am complaining. It was the only thing that prevented my execution. After I returned with Cato to our new home at Beacon Hill in District Eight, I realised I was the unwitting instigator of the change; with Nadia's help.

Anyone looking at Nadia will see a tall blond haired seventeen year old girl. She's pretty, at least compared to your average district girl, and unlike the girls from the Capitol, where Nadia lived before fleeing to District Eight, her beauty is natural. But looks can be deceiving. Nadia isn't even human. She's a biological supercomputer; an Artificial Reproducing Intelligent Environment … or ARIE for short. She and her two sisters, Ariadne and Pandora, are the only ARIEs in Panem. Ariadne created the virtual arena at the end of the 74th Hunger Games and the virtual worlds used at Le Chat Noir, a pleasure house in the Capitol specialising in such forms of entertainment. Le Chat Noir's owner, Sarah, and Ariadne have been "guests" of the military at Fort Centennial, who want them to secretly build a virtual arena for the 75th Hunger Games.

My relationship with Nadia, and to a lesser extent Ariadne, is special. Not because I'm in any way clever or knowledgeable about supercomputers, but because I possess a natural ability to create daemons. Earlier generations of ARIE were modified from their peaceful purpose of managing the worldwide production and distribution of food and power, to make then suitable for military use. The modification involved adding something called sigma keys which both control the ARIE and disable the ARIE's free will. When their sigma keys are activated the ARIE will only accept orders from someone in authority. Someone who can create a daemon. Someone like me.

Of course I don't actually create a daemon out of nothing. Nadia says what I'm really doing is cross-dimensional transfer. She tried explaining what that means, but I decided I can cope with concept of "creating" daemons much easier. My two daemons appear from time to time. The black cat which I first created during the 74th Hunger Games interacts with Ariadne, while Stefan, a huge hunk of a man, interacts with Nadia. I don't overuse my access to either Nadia or Ariadne's sigma keys as they are really powerful and my blundering about with them could have unintended and devastating consequences.

I need to be very careful when it comes to interacting with Ariadne. Neither Sarah nor the army know she is the ARIE they know they possess. They believe a fancy looking box with lots of flashing lights is the ARIE. If the army discover Ariadne is the ARIE then they will be well on the road to gaining full control over her considerable powers, with dire consequences for the people of Panem's twelve districts.

Cato, Kaycee and I have quarters at Beacon Hill where Cato and Nadia both work. Cato is a training instructor, and Nadia is the Colonel's personal assistant. Officially Beacon Hill is a military base, but it has a rather strange existence in that the base was supposed to have closed twenty years ago. The colonel of the base uses it as a personal residence for his huge extended family. The army is oblivious to the anomaly and the Colonel makes sure things stay that way.

One of the Colonel's daughters, Christine Paylor, lead the failed uprising in District Eight last winter. The peacekeepers ruthlessly crushed the uprising and executed Christine after a farce of a trial. I was also tried and found guilty of murder and treason at the same trial. My escape from death is a miracle I wish Christine could have shared. Changes have come as a result of Christine's tragic death. Her father now uses his considerable, if not entirely legal, resources to prepare and train an increasing number of District Eight citizens for a rebellion. And the people of District Eight remember Christine's sacrifice, which saved hundreds of lives, and are determined not to fail a second time.

Of course Christine's death left a huge hole in the resistance movement's leadership. One which the peacekeepers and politicians assumed would be fatal to the movement. But they are wrong. Two local men, Slim and Frank, have managed to keep the movement together. And in the shadows, Christine's daughter, Elena, has worked day and night to train and prepare herself to take over her mother's role if and when the need arises. Elena has completed and passed a military advanced training programme few regular army officers dare to attempt. If she were actually enlisted in the army she would be well on the road to outranking her grandfather. But she isn't enlisted, so simply goes by the honorary title her grandfather bestowed upon her, Commander Paylor. But to me she is simply Elena and one of my closest friends of my age at Beacon Hill.

My other close friend is thirteen year old Zoe, another of the Colonel's granddaughters, who is now a wealthy girl after inheriting a large sum of money from her maternal great-grandfather's estate. Her new found wealth helped make it possible for Cato to spend time with me while I was held prisoner at Fort Centennial. For that I am eternally grateful.

Cato's call from our bedroom stops my reminiscing. I slip on the few clothes that complete my preparations … if you can call these tiny things clothes … and walk into the bedroom. Cato is lounging on the bed like some lord waiting for his concubine to arrive and tend to his desires. Which of course is exactly the illusion my preparations are designed to enhance. The expression on his face tells me I've played my part well. Even though I have prepared myself like this a score of times before, neither of us tire of doing this as part of our foreplay.

Cato takes my right hand and gently caresses it before extending his touch along the length of my arm. I'm already in a high state of arousal but know I must be patient. Gone are the days when either of us tolerates a quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am approach to sex. The denial of fulfilment is only increasing my desire even more. My glistening skin and the aroma of the scented oil are working wonders on both of us.

Cato reaches for a metal bracelet and places it on my right wrist. It's my special bracelet from my time at Fort Centennial. Cato had initially wanted to destroy it because it was a symbol of my imprisonment, but to me it is Cato's gift of life. The one which saved me from despair. Yes, it was used as an anchor for the chain which tethered me, but it replaced the far worse shackles which had shamed and humiliated me. I gladly wear this bracelet as a reminder of Cato's ingenuity and love for me.

Cato pulls me towards the bed and I can see the beast is already standing to attention, eager for my touch. I slide next to him and both our pairs are hands are soon busy working on each other.


	2. 1-2 Tribute and mentor

1:2 Tribute and mentor

Cato and I are getting good at predicting when Kaycee will next wake. We complete our lovemaking in time to be ready for her 2 am feed. After that, the three of us settle down for some much needed sleep. This is the start of the training week for the 75th Hunger Games and I must return to the Training Centre before the 7 am electronic roll call. If I'm not back inside the Training Centre by then I will be reported as missing and hunted like an escaped convict.

It would be so much easier if Cato and Kaycee were allowed to stay with me in the District Twelve apartment, but the Gamemakers are in no mood to grant me any concessions. The Gamemakers obviously consider there was too much fraternisation between tributes during the last Games, so have tightened the rules. Access to each district's apartment is now restricted to tributes and support team for that district.

Fortunately this hotel is nearby and, thanks to Zoe's generosity, Cato, Kaycee and I can afford a room here. I'm just glad Cato escaped being reaped as the District Two male tribute. The tributes for this year's Games are selected from those who have previously entered a Hunger Games arena and survived. Which means I'm the only choice for the female tribute for District Twelve, and Cato is one of six men eligible as male tribute for District Two. As both Cato and I expected, it was Cato's name announced at the reaping ceremony. But to everyone's surprise, and the Gamemakers' annoyance, another District Two candidate, Brutus, volunteered in his stead. But Cato doesn't escape entirely. He is required to be a mentor for the District Two tributes, despite it meaning he is helping other tributes against his own wife. It's a situation that must surely make his contribution of dubious value. But rules are rules.

It is a huge weight off my shoulders knowing Kaycee is not in danger of being made an orphan within the next fortnight. As much as I would welcome Cato's help inside the arena, it removes the possibility we would be expected to fight each other to the death. This way will be better, even if it means I will face twenty three deadly opponents alone. Even Haymitch, the District Twelve male tribute, is unlikely to help me this time. President Snow and his supporters have spared no expense to downplay the scale of support for last winter's uprising in District Eight, and discredit my role in it. To anyone not directly involved in the uprising my reputation must be dirt.

At 6 am Jane stops by our room to check we are awake and ready to return to the Training Centre. I've not cleaned the scented oil from my skin yet, but Jane has seen me like this before and neither of us is embarrassed by my sultry appearance. Jane and I have a convenient arrangement to look after each other's baby when necessary. Her son, Lucas, is three months older than Kaycee and was born at Beacon Hill during the winter uprising. Jane is one of the Colonel's granddaughters and could, if she wanted, have a room in east wing of the main house at Beacon Hill. The east wing is nicknamed the harem since only women are allowed in the east wing and it is where the Colonel's many women live, along with some of his daughters and granddaughters who are unmarried and have young children in their care. The Colonel and his extended family have a strange private mission to repopulate Panem virtually single handed and seem well on the way to achieving it.

I owe Jane a debt which I find hard to acknowledge, let alone repay. Expecting my execution to occur shortly after Kaycee's birth, Cato had arranged for Jane to take on the role of wet-nursing Kaycee. She would have become Kaycee's surrogate mother. A role I think she is slightly disappointed not to have been called on to perform. Not because she bears me any ill-will, but because I know she is attracted to Cato. And Cato isn't immune to her charms … although any young female attracts his attention. I suspect it is why Jane has taken a room in hut ten, where Cato and I live, rather than in the east wing of the main house. I've long since given up worrying about the way Cato looks at other girls. He can no more stop doing it than he can stop the rain from falling. It's simply part of who he is. I refuse to try and prevent him from doing what is essentially a harmless activity.

Anyway, within the next two weeks Jane may get her chance. Jane isn't so tacky as to brazenly flaunt herself in front of Cato while I'm around. But I'm sure she and several other girls at Beacon Hill had plenty of practise while I was a prisoner at Fort Centennial. Of course I've no way of proving Cato didn't take advantage of Jane's thinly disguised interest at some time during the three months I was a prisoner. But I love and trust Cato with all my heart and somehow I know he has remained true to me. Besides, I like Jane. If I am destined to meet my end during the 75th Hunger Games, then Cato would have a hard task finding someone better than Jane to let into his heart and family.

"You smell nice this morning, Katniss," says Jane. "I hope you haven't tired Cato too much. He has two tributes to help train today and neither is likely to forgive him for any lapses of concentration."

"I'm sure Cato can look after himself," I laugh. "Kaycee is likely to want her next feed in an hour. Can you keep a close eye on her. She's been behaving oddly since we left Beacon Hill."

"Sure," replies Jane. "It's probably just the change of surroundings. Lucas hasn't acclimatised to being here in the Capitol either."

I nod in acknowledgement of Jane's comment. At first I too thought Kaycee's restlessness was simply due to the change of location, but I now worry it is something more. Something I didn't think was possible until ten days ago, but now realise I should have anticipated. Kaycee is missing Nadia. Not just her physical presence, but her mental link. Nadia has been secretly training me how to work with an ARIE. And what finer time for secret training than when I'm breastfeeding Kaycee. Only I'm not the only one who has been learning how to communicate with an ARIE at those sessions.

You may think that I'm overreacting and imagining the effect Nadia's training has had on Kaycee. However, when you realise your three month old daughter can create a daemon, the issue becomes serious. Very serious indeed. Admittedly, Kaycee's first attempt at creating a daemon belongs in the category of "cute", but it signals a much more powerful ability. Kaycee's daemon may resemble her favourite fluffy toy, but it walks … which Kaycee can't … and Nadia admits she can sense Kaycee inside her mind up to several hundred metres away. It's nothing like the hundreds of kilometres Nadia and I can communicate with each other through Stefan, but it's a beginning. How long before Kaycee discovers Nadia's sigma keys and what happens if she activates them?

Nadia and I have been very careful about who we tell about Nadia's abilities. It took us a while to agree to let Elena and Cato in on the full scale of Nadia's abilities. My reluctance to tell Cato was not because I didn't trust him, but because I knew he would behave differently towards Nadia once he knew. Sure enough, once he was told, he suddenly stopped admiring Nadia when she walked past. When Jane noticed and commented, I told her Nadia and Cato had had an argument. It's an explanation Jane was delighted to believe … one less rival for Cato's attention.

Letting Elena in on Nadia's secret was an easier decision. It is impossible to say whether Elena's mother, Christine, would still be alive had she been aware Nadia was an ARIE and could be used as a powerful weapon. At the time even Nadia wasn't fully aware of her own powers. Now Nadia has explored some of the boundaries of her own powers, she and I realise she is like a like a warehouse full of unstable explosives … extremely powerful but if handled incorrectly she could inadvertently destroy the very thing she is trying to protect. My preference would be to disable and destroy Nadia's sigma keys so she cannot be used as a powerful weapon. Unfortunately I can't; there is a way of doing it, but it requires more than one person capable of creating a daemon to do so. Besides, it would be risky to unilaterally destroy Nadia's sigma keys while the army holds her sister Ariadne, and the whereabouts of her other sister, Pandora, are unknown. I make a promise to myself to use her sigma keys only as a last resort. Despite being offered a powerful weapon, Elena's inclination is the same as mine. While we all want to free the districts from the yoke of President Snow's rule, we know destroying most of Panem in the process would be disastrous.

When I was released from Fort Centennial, Nadia had continued my instruction on how to interact with her through Stefan. As I said, we usually did this while I was breast feeding Nadia so our actions didn't appear suspicious to the many people who are unaware of Nadia's true nature. I gradually learned what Nadia and I can do without ordering Nadia to activate her sigma keys. Nadia retains her free will while her sigma keys are deactivated, so anything I send through Stefan is a request rather than an order. I realise my efforts to control Ariadne during Caesar Flickerman's fake interview with Cato and I was heavy handed. Ariadne may have done as I asked without me activating her sigma keys. As it is, my actions may have alerted the army experts to something worth their time investigating.

Cato and I arrive at the Training Centre with fifteen minutes to spare. We share a parting kiss and I go up to the District Twelve apartment for a shower and breakfast, while Cato goes to join the District Two tributes.


	3. 1-3 Renewed friendships

1:3 Renewed friendships

I enter the District Twelve apartment to find two Avoxes busy setting the table for breakfast. There's no sign of Haymitch; which doesn't surprise me. I don't expect to see him for another couple of hours. Peeta is our mentor and is likely to join us later, as are Effie and Cinna. It seems strange to think of Peeta as a mentor, and I'm not certain how easy he will find negotiating sponsorship deals on Haymitch and my behalf. I wish he had been able to bring his wife, Sheba, with him to the Capitol. As a girl born in the Capitol, her local experience would have been a great help. But she's expecting their first child in a few weeks and Peeta didn't want her risking her health by making the long journey. I suspect the real reason is she doesn't want to meet her father, who had effectively sold her into marriage with Peeta in order to gain himself prestige in the Capitol. While the origins of their marriage may be suspect, Peeta and Sheba at least seem happy together.

As an early riser I'm used to having breakfast before 7 am. I can't resist the temptation to eat something now and I help myself to a small plate of fruit. Just enough to keep me going until Haymitch and anyone else joining us are ready for breakfast. I know I need to shower and clean off the sensuous oils from my body. I'll not be treated seriously if I turn up for training looking like this, and I'll never get the allies I'm told I need to survive the opening stages of these Games.

Peeta has made an initial assessment of this year's tributes. Their abilities range from the lethal killers like Brutus and Enobaria from District Two, to those who are too old or too drunk or drugged to be a serious threat to anyone but themselves. A small group of allies would get me through the initial stages of the Games and give me time to work on disrupting the virtual arena.

Among the tributes and mentors, only Cato and I know the arena will not be real. Not that a virtual arena will be any less lethal. Our survival from the hastily constructed virtual arena used at the end of the 74th Hunger Games was only due to Sarah's refusal to execute in real life those who had been killed inside the virtual arena. This time, with more time to prepare, the Gamemakers will ensure the virtual dead are also dead in reality. I don't know what punishment Sarah has had to face for her part in our escape last time. I saw her briefly when I was a prisoner at Fort Centennial, so I know she wasn't executed as soon as the Gamemakers discovered our escape. The official story that an experimental medical technique was used to bring Cato and I back to life is only to deflect the more curious questioners. The Gamemakers and those in power know exactly what happened and will have gone to great lengths to ensure it doesn't happen again.

I bring my plate of fruit to the lounge area so as not to interrupt the Avoxes. I've nearly finished eating when Cinna arrives.

"Ah! Good. You're here," says Cinna. "Good morning, Katniss."

"Good morning, Cinna. Where else would I be? It's roll call time and training doesn't start for another two hours."

As if to prove my point the narrow bracelet around my wrist beeps to indicate my location has been detected by the electronic security sensors and my presence noted in the automated roll call. I could now leave the Training Centre until the 7 pm roll call if I wanted, but Peeta, Haymitch, Effie and Cinna are unanimous in their belief that I need to make alliances among the other tributes. Attending today's training session will be the first step in that process.

"Do you regularly rub that oil on your skin?" asks Cinna.

"Um … yes, once a week. Cato likes it … and I do too. Don't worry, I'm about to go for a shower to clean the oil off."

"Hmmm … We might be able to use the oil to enhance your image when it comes time for the television interview with Caesar Flickerman."

"I doubt anything I do will improve my image in Caesar Flickerman's eyes. He must still be seething at his failure to deliver the fake interview with Cato and I three months ago. I suspect he is looking for revenge."

"Which is why your public image is so important. It is the audience we need to impress, not Caesar Flickerman. After all the nonsense President Snow's spin-doctors have put out about you, many people will be too frightened to sponsor such a rebel and troublemaker. Let me work on a few ideas and we'll talk later today."

I leave Cinna to his musing and go for a shower. I know better than to try and remove all the oil from my skin. The only time I tried doing that my skin was left red and raw. These days I simply remove the most noticeable effects and let nature work on the rest over the next few days. It means the scent lingers for a while, but Cato approves and I don't care what anyone else thinks on the subject.

The shower unit in the Training Centre apartment is far more sophisticated than the one in our room at the hotel. Some of the settings are clearly designed to remove body oil and after a bit of experimentation I find the right combination to wash off the oil. Or at least most of it. When I'm dry again I notice my skin still has a slight sheen and a trace of the scent is still noticeable. I dress in the training outfit we are expected to wear during training and return to the lounge area where I find both Effie and Peeta have arrived.

It's the first chance I've had to talk to them properly without Haymitch being present. It gives me a chance to renew my friendships with them. I carefully quiz them about what they know about my miraculous survival from the 74th Hunger Games arena and my activities since then. I'm not surprised when they simply repeat the official version of my story. Even Peeta is unaware he was in a virtual arena at the end of the Games. It's something I've suspected for a while, but wasn't certain until just now. As for the winter uprising in District Eight and my arrest and sentence, their knowledge is a combination of the truth and the lies President Snow and his supporters created as a smoke screen. I promise to tell them the correct version of events before this week is over.

Haymitch finally surfaces just as I'm preparing to go downstairs for the start of the training session. It's a good job Peeta, Cinna and Effie and I didn't delay our breakfast. Haymitch is in his usual early morning foul mood. Effie produces a bottle of what I assume is an alcoholic drink. Haymitch takes a swig from the bottle without bothering to pour it into a glass and he eases into a better mood. He grabs a plate of pastries and starts to eat.

"I don't know why you are in such a rush, sweetheart," says Haymitch spraying pastry crumbs everywhere. "Most of the tributes won't turn up for training until after lunch … if at all. It's not like previous years; this year everyone is an experienced killer. It's not something you forget … ever."

While I don't disagree with Haymitch's assessment, I don't want to give the wrong impression to the other tributes. As the youngest tribute in this year's Games I'm at a disadvantage. Most of the other tributes have known each other for years and understand each others strengths and weaknesses. My only advantage is I'm young and in good physical shape. The rigorous training schedule Cato and I have followed for the last three months has left me as ready as I could ever hope to be for this contest. My other reason for not lingering in the apartment is so I can spend as much time as possible where I might bump into Cato. If we can sneak off for a few hours then … hmmm.

I enter the training room to find both pairs of tributes from Districts One and Two are already practising. With Finnick Odair from District Four, my arrival brings the number of tributes present to six. I look around for Cato, but am disappointed to see he is not here.

"Hah! If it isn't the other half of the walking dead," says Brutus, repeating one of the less savoury nicknames Cato and I have acquired after surviving the 74th Hunger Games.

"If you are looking for Cato," adds Finnick in a more friendly tone, "he's not allowed anywhere near you while we are in a training session. But I'm more than happy to stand in for him if you need a comforting shoulder."

I feel awkward around Finnick. He has a reputation for being a wolf when a woman is around, and I'm not in the mood for fighting off unwanted male attention. I ignore the other tributes and study the variety of training on offer. There's plenty to choose from, and with so few tributes here there is no need to wait for a turn. A trainer offering instruction in map reading attracts my attention. Not simply because it's something I've never studied, but because it seems an odd subject on which to provide training here. But I know everything has a purpose.


	4. 1-4 The swordsman's challenge

1:4 The swordsman's challenge

I spend an hour learning map reading. By the time I'm finished the number of tributes in the training room has increased to fourteen. Haymitch is one of those who is absent. I talk to a few of the tributes during the short break. From my initial observations, I only rate Beetee and Wiress from District Three as potential allies. Finnick seems keen to make an alliance with me, but I'm very uncertain about him. I'll talk with Cato tonight and get his advice before making a decision about Finnick.

The Gamemakers make an announcement before we resume. A special combat training session using a new simulator is available for the next session. Participation is optional, but the Gamemakers make it clear it would be in our best interests to take up their offer. Even so, there are only eight of us who volunteer to take part. We are taken to a side room where a trainer explains how the simulator works. It seems simple enough. We each enter the simulator one at a time and must dodge, fight or trick our way past anyone or anything blocking our way to the exit on the other side. We are allowed ten minutes for our one and only attempt. Lots are drawn to establish the order in which we enter and we are all allowed to watch what is happening inside the simulator on a wide screen. A trainer enters first so as not to disadvantage Brutus, who will have the first attempt by a tribute.

The simulator shows a scene of a narrow and twisting canyon with steep walls. You can't see the end of the canyon from the start. It is perfect country for hiding traps and predators along the route. The trainer selects a sword and shield from a collection of weapons and other items on a table near the start line. We are allowed to take anything from the table before we start, but must carry what we select and we cannot return to the table once we begin. Our ten minutes begins as soon as we cross the line.

The trainer sets off at a brisk pace. He has barely gone twenty paces before a wild boar charges towards him from the nearby scrub. The trainer dodges the charge and lunges at the boar as it passes him. He only inflicts a minor wound and the boar quickly turns for another charge. The trainer decides to run for the nearby trees. A mistake. The boar catches him before he can reach the trees and gouges his leg. The trainer turns and stabs the boar, finally killing it. He hobbles further along the canyon, trying to stem the flow of blood from his leg wound.

After avoiding several traps he is in sight of the finish line when a swordsman wearing a long flowing black robe steps out in front of him. A deep hood hides the swordsman's face from our view. The trainer prepares to do battle but the wound in his leg is a major handicap. The swordsman quickly disarms the trainer, who promptly surrenders. A failure. A minute later the trainer rejoins us. His leg wound was not real and he seems none the worse for his experience.

"Be warned!" says the trainer before Brutus enters the simulator. "The traps and hazards will be different for each of you, but the swordsman will always be your last obstacle."

Brutus enters the simulator and takes a sword and spear from the table. He makes a more cautious start, expecting the boar to charge him, but nothing happens. He loses a precious minute in his cautious journey to the first line of trees. He is barely inside the tree line when a bear appears before him. To his credit Brutus responds quickly, and skilfully uses the spear to fend off the bear. But it costs him time. He loses even more time, as well as his spear, when he falls into a trap. A pit which fortunately doesn't contain anything nasty at the bottom. Brutus scrambles out of the pit and resumes his journey. By the time he reaches the swordsman he has only a minute left.

Brutus must realise he is short of time. As he engages the black robed swordsman he tries to work his way around the swordsman. A logical move which the swordsman anticipates and easily blocks. Blade for blade the pair are evenly matched, but time is on the swordsman's side. Brutus gets more desperate and in doing so makes a fatal mistake. In a swift movement, just like the one Cato once showed me, the swordsman lands a lethal stroke at Brutus's neck. Game over.

Brutus returns to our group a minute later, unharmed but for his wounded pride. He's eager to make another attempt but the trainer says 'no'. Cashmere from District One goes next, followed by her brother Gloss. Neither get past the swordsman although Cashmere manages to wound the swordsman. Like the injuries inflicted on us, the swordsman returns fully fit for the next contest.

My turn is next to last, with Finnick after me. Everyone has reached the swordsman but no one has made it past him. I've been studying the way the swordsman moves and I think I have a plan. I take the bow and the single arrow from the table. I also take the large yellow silk scarf. It seems totally out of place among the weapons. I decide it must therefore be useful. I tie the scarf around my waist and step across the start line. I notch my arrow to my bow and move briskly towards the trees. A boar comes charging towards me from the opposite direction to the one which charged the trainer. Using all my hunting skills I take aim and let fly with my arrow. A direct hit which brings the boar down. I move forward to retrieve my arrow but the boar simply vanishes into thin air taking my arrow with it. I hadn't anticipated that. None of the beasts the other tributes faced disappeared like that. Now I'm unarmed.

I don't dwell on my mistake and quickly make my way into the woods. I easily see the trip wire stretched between two trees and bypass that trap. In doing so I nearly step into a well disguised pit. Fortunately a rustling sound from a nearby bush had made me slow my pace and I manage to stop in time. I scan the area the sound came from and soon the source. A small animal. A black cat. But is it my black cat? My daemon? I send a questing thought in the direction of the cat and it responds by coming towards me. It is my daemon. It means this simulation is controlled by Ariadne.

Given the experience I gained when I disrupted Caesar Flickerman's simulated interview with Cato and I, it would be easy for me to take control of this simulation. But doing so would alert every Gamemaker and army expert to what I've done. Instead I settle for allowing the cat to show me a path through the maze of traps. I reach the swordsman with nearly five minutes left to me.

I've no weapon, but my plan requires brains rather than brawn. The swordsman is extremely skilful to have beaten all the tributes from Districts One and Two. Even if I were armed to the teeth, my ability to fight with blades is not up to the swordsman's skill level. While I was watching the other tributes battle the swordsman, I started to wonder how Cato would have faired against him. I've wrestled with Cato enough times to know his preferred movements and style, and this swordsman is remarkably similar. So similar, in fact, I begin to suspect the swordsman is Cato.

Not that I've any easy way to prove or disprove that theory. As I discovered from Peeta's experience at the end of the 74th Hunger Games, it is possible for a person to be inside the simulation but not recognise with whom they are interacting. If the swordsman is Cato, he may not be able to see my features. To him I may just be another opponent to defeat with his sword.

I turn towards the cat but it simply flicks its tail and returns to the undergrowth. It has decided I don't need its help any more. What a fickle ally! Then I realise it is confirming what I suspected. The swordsman is Cato. Not that that knowledge is going to help me until Cato realises this is me. At the moment he clearly doesn't since he is drawing his sword.

"Hi. Do you recognise me?" I ask tentatively. His answer is garbled. He heard me speak but couldn't make out my words. The simulation scrambled our words so we can't understand each other.

I need to try another ploy. I remove the yellow scarf tied around my waist and perform a dance in front of him using the scarf in a sensuous manner. The Harem-keeper's journal specifies that the dancing girl should be naked apart from the scarf, but I don't have time to undress. Cato must understand my actions but doesn't put away his sword. Instead he points the tip of his blade at the zip of my jacket. His motion clearly indicates he wants me to undress. I don't really have time for this, but he isn't going to let me pass until I've paid for my passage. I lower the zip and remove my jacket revealing my small singlet. It is only marginally decent attire in public. I remove my shoes and trousers on his unspoken command. He finally lifts his blade away from me. I take it as a sign I can leap into his arms and kiss him.

Cato throws his sword aside and returns my kiss. He picks me up and carries me to the finish line with only seconds left on the clock. While I would like to linger in his arms for a while, I cross the finish line and leave the simulation. I'm relieved to find I'm back to being fully dressed. My striptease was only simulated but I don't doubt those watching saw everything. When I join the other tributes they are speechless and just look at me in surprise.

"My turn," says Finnick. "I like your technique, Katniss, but I'm definitely NOT going to copy your method."

He might have lasted longer had he done so.


	5. 1-5 In hot water

1:5 In Hot Water

The Head Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee, joins us a few minutes after Finnick leaves the simulation. Cato is with him. We gather round to hear what Heavensbee has to say.

"That was a simple simulation, but apart from Mrs. Everdeen, you all failed," says Heavensbee. "Tomorrow you will be given another chance with a different simulation. A much harder simulation. Now I suggest you return to the main training room and practise."

Plutarch Heavensbee asks Cato and I to wait after the others leave.

"Explain how you knew the swordsman was your husband, Mrs. Everdeen," ask Heavensbee in a rather menacing tone.

"I can recognise my own husband's favourite fighting actions when I see them," I reply without hesitation. It's not quite the truth … I was far from certain I was facing Cato until the black cat turned and left me.

"Hmmph. Then tomorrow you won't be so lucky," grunts Heavensbee in a thinly disguised threat. "Take my advice. Don't make trouble and say your farewells to your husband and child before you enter the Hunger Games arena. Traitors won't be allowed to leave the arena alive."

"All charges of treason against me were annulled. I'm not a traitor," I reply refusing to be intimidated by this man.

"Legally, perhaps. But we both know President Snow will sleep sounder if you die in the arena. Now return to the others and behave … both of you. You have the safety of your daughter to consider."

Cato guides me out of the room before I lose my patience and take a swing at the Head Gamemaker. However we don't return to the training room. Cato guides me to the swimming pool where we had enjoyed our first union twelve months ago.

"I thought we are under orders to behave," I say to Cato as we stop for a kiss. "Sneaking off like this must break several of the new rules prohibiting inter-district fraternisation."

"Not at all. The new rules only relate to the apartments on the upper levels. This swimming pool complex is common territory. Now, do you prefer a swim or a soak in the hot tubs?"

"The hot tubs sound nice, but I have something more than a soak in mind."

We miss lunch. I return to the training room in time for the start of the afternoon training session. Haymitch has finally deigned to make an appearance, as have two other tributes. There are now seventeen of us. I make a point of finding Beetee and Wiress and propose an alliance to which they agree. Cato and I were too busy making out to discuss my thoughts about an alliance with Finnick.

The afternoon training sessions are another mix of weapons practise and survival crafts. Each session lasts for just under an hour with a few minutes to move to the next session. I find myself with Haymitch and Enobaria at a session giving instruction about detecting edible plants and fungi. We don't engage in much conversation. I've already eliminated Enobaria as a potential ally, and Haymitch is too unreliable for me to have any faith in him.

I meet Cato at the swimming pool as soon as training is over and we enjoy a swim. I need to be in the Training Centre for the 7 pm roll call, so we have nearly an hour to kill. I've already told Peeta and Cinna I intend to have my evening meals with Cato at our hotel. Any team talks will have to be done at breakfast … assuming Haymitch can crawl out of bed early enough. As we swim I can sense Cato has something he wants to tell me, but clearly doesn't want to here in the Training Centre where our conversations are almost certainly being monitored.

After ten minutes I realise Finnick has joined us in the pool. He makes a point of coming over to where Cato and I are swimming. He greets Cato as though they are long lost friends, whereas they barely know each other. Finnick was a mentor at last year's Games, so both Cato and I have seen him before this week. Of course, Finnick's reputation as a womaniser is legendary, although I suspect many stories are greatly exaggerated.

"I've proposed an alliance with your lovely wife," says Finnick to Cato. "But she's playing hard to get."

"I'm sure she has a reason," replies Cato in a neutral tone. I now wish we had discussed Finnick's proposal of an alliance earlier.

"Ah! It could be my magnetic charm, and Katniss is frightened she might fall under my spell," chortles Finnick.

"Do you have a magnetic charm?" replies Cato. "Is it the one you keep on your necklace? In my experience Katniss isn't frightened of anything."

A complete lie, but I love the way Cato always stands up for me. In reality I'm terrified of lots of things.

"Ha ha ha! Actually I agree with you. Katniss has the courage and ingenuity to win these Games. It's unfortunate the Gamemakers will do their best to ensure she doesn't. Rumour has it President Snow has ordered the Gamemakers to ensure her demise occurs within the first five days."

I too have heard such rumours, but how true they are is another matter. There is no shortage of rumours circulating about me. Most of them are unpleasant and derogatory, but a few contain a kernel of truth.

"Then why do you wish to make an alliance with a person who has a death sentence over her head?" replies Cato.

"Well, a lot can happen in five days," says Finnick. "I have my reasons for wanting Katniss to survive. She isn't the only one who …"

Cato suddenly pushes a surprised Finnick under the water before he blurts out something that could be regarded as treasonous. While any recording of our conversation would be distorted by the reverberation in this swimming pool, an expert could extract enough of our conversation to hang us all. I know there is little I can do to save myself from President Snow's wrath, but I don't intend to put others in peril on my account.

"We shall discuss your offer of an alliance, and Katniss will let you know her decision tomorrow," says Cato when they surface again. Cato gives Finnick a playful pat on the shoulder and returns to me. Finnick nods and swims off to the other side of the pool.

Cato and I are dried and dressed when my tribute's bracelet beeps. It means the 7 pm automated roll call has detected my presence. I'm now free to leave the Training Centre until tomorrow morning's roll call. Cato and I quickly return to the hotel where Jane is preparing a meal for the three of us in the small kitchenette. Kaycee and Lucas are fast asleep. We settle down to our modest meal. The meal I could have in the District Twelve apartment would be much grander, and the food more plentiful, but the company couldn't compete to sharing a meal with the man I love and one of my close friends.

"Was Kaycee alright while we were gone?" I ask Jane.

"She was a bit fretful for a while but settled down by mid morning. We spent most of the day in the park opposite the Training Centre. Kaycee even seemed to be playing with a sword for an hour or so this morning."

I look at Cato. I've already told him about Kaycee's ability to create a daemon. I can't help wonder if she can detect Ariadne's presence. If she can, then Kaycee has abilities I don't.

We settle down and enjoy the meal Jane has prepared. Jane leaves us an hour later and returns to her room with the sleeping Lucas in her arms. Kaycee is starting to stir and is likely to want her next feed in another half an hour.

"Do you think Kaycee knew Ariadne is inside the Training Centre?" asks Cato, voicing my suspicion.

"I don't know. It could be a coincidence. If Ariadne is controlling tomorrow's simulation, then we can ask Jane if she notices the same behaviour in Kaycee while the simulation is running."

"I saw Ariadne today," says Cato. "You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you."


	6. 1-6 A simulation slave

1:6 A Simulation Slave

"I don't think the Gamemaker organising today's simulation knew I have previously met Ariadne," continues Cato. "He was looking for someone to help train some of the tributes in swordsmanship and I volunteered. I didn't know it would be a simulation until I saw Ariadne."

"Did you get a chance to talk to her?" I ask.

"No. She was closely guarded by Sarah and two men in army uniforms. They had a large collar around Ariadne's neck. As soon as they switched on the device attached to the collar it was as though Ariadne had no free will. Ariadne acted as though she was their slave."

A chill runs through my bones. The army obviously now realise Ariadne is the ARIE they possess, and not the box with the flashing lights that they mistook for an ARIE. The collar must act like a daemon and control Ariadne's sigma keys. Am I partially responsible for the army's discovery? Did my tinkering with Caesar Flickerman's interview simulation alert the army to Ariadne's true nature? Either way, it means I won't be able to seize control of the Hunger Games simulation if Ariadne's sigma keys are already activated and controlled by the army through the collar around her neck.

"What was Sarah doing while this was going on?" I ask.

"I couldn't see, although I heard her plead with the army experts not to hurt Ariadne. I don't know if they paid any attention to her plea."

"We need Nadia's advice," I say. "I know we all agreed she should stay in District Eight, but that was before we knew about the collar. I'll try sending a message to her through Stefan, but can you try and contact her tomorrow to make sure she received it?"

My link to Nadia though my daemon, Stefan, is always fraught with problems. The link only works in one direction and I've no means of telling whether Stefan has received my message and been able to pass it on to Nadia. Nor do I have any means of knowing Nadia's response until she replies by more conventional means.

"Yes. Of course," replies Cato.

Kaycee chooses this moment to wake up, and for a short while I attend to my duties as a mother. Kaycee, Cato and I enjoy half an hour playing together before a huge yawn tells us Kaycee is ready for more sleep. Cato helps settle her back in her cot. She cries for a while before falling asleep.

Once Kaycee is asleep, Cato and I embrace and prepare for our private time. At Cato's insistence I repeat this morning's dance with the scarf. Only this time I must do so as prescribed in the harem-keeper's journal. Naked. I retrieve the blue silk scarf I keep with my clothes for this purpose and begin my dance. I've done this several times before. Although it is only Cato's third or fourth favourite among the many preparations described in the harem-keeper's journal, it always has the desired effect on the beast. Tonight he is in the mood to demand I dance slowly and lewdly. I'm more than happy to comply, because this variation of my dance arouses me as much as it does Cato.

I'm almost exploding with desire before Cato finally pulls me towards him and the beast goes to work inside my willing body. Although Cato has controlled the events that have lead to this point, it is now my turn to take command of our union. After making me dance for ages, I'm determined to make him wait for fulfilment. When we first met I would never have dared do this, nor did I have the skill to do so, even if I dared. But now it is a different matter. I can sense Cato's desires and needs as easily as he can sense mine. We work together to ensure both of us enjoy our experience to the fullest.

Afterwards we lie in each other's arms. After the very physical play we have just enjoyed this moment of tenderness and togetherness is delightful. I fall asleep as Cato gently runs his hands up and down my back.

A telephone call from Nadia before 6 am confirms she has received my message. She doesn't want to discuss anything over the telephone in case the line is monitored. She says she will come to the Capitol but doesn't say exactly when she will get here or by what means. A wise precaution considering the military secret service are hunting for her. If the secret service capture Nadia they will force her to join Ariadne as a slave controlled by the army experts.

Jane arrives shortly after. I ask her to take Kaycee back to the park this morning and watch Kaycee's behaviour to see if she repeats yesterday's actions. Jane is curious about my request but knows me well enough not to ask awkward questions to which she'll only get an evasive reply.

Cato and I report to the Training Centre in time for the roll call. I go up to the District Twelve apartment. To my surprise Haymitch is already washed and dressed and ready for breakfast.

"You're up early this morning, Haymitch," I say.

"Yeah. With all the rumours flying around yesterday evening, I think we all need to be alert today," replies Haymitch.

"What rumours?" I ask.

"This year's Games are to be held in a virtual arena," says Peeta coming out of a side room. "If it's true, then there will be no end of surprises and special effects the Gamemakers can heap on you."

"And who is the source of these rumours?" I ask.

Neither Peeta nor Haymitch know. Like any rumour, the source is lost in a criss-crossing maze of varying tales. I decide against adding more fuel to the rumours and keep quiet about what I know. Time for that later if the situation warrants it. The source of the rumours must come from the Gamemakers or somebody close to them. Yesterday's practise simulation would hardly spark a general belief the whole arena will be imaginary.

"So, if we die in the arena, we get to walk out of the simulation?" I ask, testing the depth of the rumours.

"No such luck," grunts Haymitch. "Apparently we will be hooked up to tubes that keep us alive while we are in the virtual arena. If we die in the arena, then whatever passes through the tubes will suddenly turn lethal."

I decide to let the matter rest since it only confirms what I already know or suspect. What Haymitch says is far too detailed for an idle rumour, and is very close to what I experienced in the virtual arena at the end of the 74th Hunger Games. Does this mean all the tributes will be aware we are fighting inside a virtual arena? What about the rest of Panem? Will they be told as well?

Today's simulation training will hopefully give answers to some of those questions.

Cinna arrives in time for breakfast and I remember I didn't meet with him yesterday afternoon as we had tentatively agreed. I apologise but he doesn't make an issue of it. Since we have completed breakfast early, I have half-an-hour to discuss my wardrobe with Cinna before Haymitch and I need to report to the training room. I suspect today's training sessions will have a full attendance if the rumours have reached everyone's ears.

Cinna's proposed wardrobe and image for me takes my breath away. Over the last year my taste in clothes and style has moved away from the conservative shy-girl image to something much more daring and radical. Cinna's proposal takes that transformation to a new level I'm not certain I can pull off successfully. But I'm willing to give it a try and Cinna certainly thinks I'm capable of doing it. I just hope Cato will approve … no … that's a silly thought … he'll love it.

At nine o'clock Haymitch, Peeta and I go down to the training room. As I suspected, all the tributes are here, as are many of the mentors. I wave to Cato who is on the other side of the room with Brutus and Enobaria. Cato blows me a kiss in return but stays on his side of the room. A Gamemaker calls all the tributes together for an announcement.

"Today you will be given the opportunity to practise in a simulated arena. Only you will not be fighting in the body as you currently are, but in the body of the person you were when you last entered a Hunger Games arena. I recommend you take the opportunity to practise as much as you can, since that is how you will fight when you enter the Hunger Games arena at the end of this week. I'm sure you've all heard the rumours circulating since yesterday. I can confirm that this year's Hunger Games will be fought inside a virtual arena."

In a stroke I have lost what few advantages I possessed. A young body against an old and unfit body … lost. The sole knowledge we are in a virtual arena … lost. The ability to control the virtual arena through the black cat … probably lost. I'm in deep trouble even without the Gamemakers efforts to make sure I die. I look towards Cato. He understands my fear and comes over to me.

"Strength and honour, Katniss. I love you," says Cato. They were his words to me when I was taken from him on the day I was due to be executed and we expected never to see each other again. They gave me courage then … they give me courage now.

[End of episode 1]


	7. 2-1 The oval arena

Episode 2: Simulation Training

2:1 The Oval Arena

We are briefed about today's simulation. We can refuse to participate, but all the tributes are present for the briefing. Everyone else is told to leave the room. Cato has time to give me a quick thumbs up signal before he and the other mentors are escorted out of the room.

"Listen carefully," begins the Gamemaker. "Today the male and female tribute from each district will fight as a pair. Take good care of your partner … if they die in the arena you will be hauling their dead body around with you until a victor emerges. As I said earlier, once you are inside the simulation you will be in the body of the person you were when you last entered a Hunger Games arena. For some of you that will be a minor change … for others a major one. Although you won't really die in this simulation, I advise against reckless bravado … your skills and methods will be watched and be part of your final score."

There is no further guidance given to us and we are instructed to stand inside one of twenty four large transparent cylinders at the far end of the room. The cylinders are laid out in three rings around a raised central podium on which stands a strange looking chair. The rings contain six, eight and ten cylinders respectively. Each cylinder is about three metres high and a metre in diameter. I choose one of the six cylinders in the inner ring, while Haymitch goes for one in the outer ring. Once we are all inside our respective cylinder, the doors lock. Two men and two women then enter the room and walk to the central podium. I recognise the two women as Ariadne and Sarah. The men I don't recognise, although their bearing suggests military men.

Ariadne is looking fearful and is already wearing the heavy collar Cato saw yesterday. The men guide Ariadne to the chair and tinker with the back of her collar. Then everything around me changes. I'm no longer in the training room. I'm in a large stone corridor with the other tributes. The smell is awful and the floor seems to be stained with blood. That and the sound of people cheering above makes me think we are in an underground entrance passage to an old fashioned arena. An arena which pre-dates the modern arenas of the Hunger Games. If I'm right, then this one will be a circular or oval shaped compound in which contestants will slug it out with swords and other weapons until only one remains. Not very pretty. An arena which blatantly favours the strongest and most brutal.

I look at the other tributes and it takes several of them a while to adjust to their younger forms. Fortunately Cato and I had watched the recordings of each tribute's victory as part of our preparations for these Games. I can therefore recognise most of the tributes, although I'm not certain who is who among the rest. Haymitch looks a lot nicer in his younger form, although I suspect his attitude will be the modern day Haymitch's grumpy self.

Haymitch and I are tethered together by a two metre long chain attached to a steel cuff on our left wrists. I don't know if it is because I've been shackled so many times over the last year, but it takes me a few moments to realise it.

"Select your weapons from over there and prepare to enter the arena," calls a gruff voice I don't recognise. "You have one minute. As soon as you enter the arena be prepared to defend yourself. Last pair standing … or the surviving partner … wins."

Haymitch and I are fifth in line to choose a weapon. I've no idea which weapon to choose and I'm not proficient with any of them. Haymitch selects a spear. I settle for a light weight curved sword. As soon as we are armed another man comes over and straps a small wooden shield onto our left arms.

"Hey! I'm left handed," calls one of the tributes.

"You were," the man replies. The tribute unstraps his shield and discards it.

"When do we get our clothes," I ask, realising I'm practically naked.

"You're wearing them," replies the man.

All too soon the minute is up. Brutus and Enobaria from District Two are the first to enter the arena. They are quickly followed by the pair from District Ten, and then Gloss and Cashmere from District One. There's a delay before the next pair enter due to the chain tethering two pairs of contestants becoming tangled. The four of them are pushed into the arena still trying to untangle themselves. It's a fatal mistake for which three of them pay an instant and final penalty.

Haymitch and I enter the arena in ninth position. It's a bloodbath. Half of those who have already entered are down. Those who entered early have taken the best positions … but not without cost. I can only see two pairs with both partners uninjured. Unsurprisingly they are the pairs from District One and District Two.

We run into the oval shaped arena. Fortunately no one attacks us as we enter. Haymitch guides me to the left, along the wall. Behind us, Finnick and his partner Mags do the same along the right wall. The walls are four metres high and made of large blocks of stone. Above the wall is a huge audience cheering and baying for blood.

"Beetee and Wiress are in trouble over there," I say. "Come on."

"Wait, sweetheart," replies Haymitch pulling me back by the chain tethering us.

From an older Haymitch, being called 'sweetheart' is irritating but otherwise harmlessly quaint. From a younger Haymitch it simply sounds insolent and rude. But now isn't the time to make an issue of it.

"What is it, Haymitch?" I ask.

"Once we step into the centre we will have to look in all directions for an attack. You watch the right side and behind us and I'll watch left and front."

I nod in agreement and we work our way towards Wiress and the injured Beetee. Wiress is wafting a short sword at their assailant who easily parries her swings. However the assailant is handicapped by his partner, who is literally a dead weight on the end of his chain. He sees Haymitch and I approaching and changes his tactics.

To be honest I'm sick to the bottom of my stomach by the time we are down to the last eight. The crowd hasn't stopped yelling and screaming and it is really annoying me. Haymitch has suffered a bad wound and it takes all his energy not to drag against my movements. Our efforts to save Beetee and Wiress were in vain. The best we could manage was vengeance for their deaths. I'm exhausted. We must have been fighting non-stop for nearly half an hour. Brutus and Enobaria are the only pair with two uninjured people. Finnick and Mags are like us, with Mags in a bad way. Johanna from District Seven and Gloss are each fighting on alone after their respective partner has been killed. It looks like victory will go to District Two.

"Can you see the black cat?" I ask Haymitch.

"Huh? What black cat? I think you are hallucinating, sweetheart."

I'm not hallucinating. I'm just making sure the black cat which has just walked into the arena is only visible to me. What help the cat can provide remains to be seen.

"Can we end this now?" I silently send to the black cat. I'm feeling really tired and sick of the bloodshed.

Woosh! The arena disappears and I'm standing inside my cylinder. At first I think I've suffered a fatal blow from an unseen assailant. But the other eight tributes who are still in a cylinder … those still alive in the arena … are equally surprised. I look towards Ariadne. She looks tired, but for the first time since I arrived here, I see her give a sly smile. The two men beside her are frantically looking at their portable monitors, obviously trying to work out what has caused a malfunction with the simulation.

Perhaps all is not lost.


	8. 2-2 Skimpy costumes

2:2 Skimpy costumes

We are released from our cylinders and taken to join the others in an adjacent room. Despite all the bloodshed and gore in the arena, everyone is unharmed and busy talking about how they felt to be in a younger version of themselves. Personally I barely noticed the difference, although I had to adjust my balance for the different weight of my breasts.

"I apologise for the sudden failure of the simulation," says the Gamemaker in charge of the simulation. "Our technicians are investigating the cause of the problem. We shall have it fixed by tomorrow for the next simulation."

"You're surely not going to make us go through that bloodbath again?" asks Beetee.

"No. These are just training simulations to enable you to improve specific skills. Tomorrow's simulation will help you sharpen an entirely different set of skills."

Cato comes over to me as we all enjoy a well earned break. The horrors of what I saw in the arena are still affecting me and Cato's embrace gives me much needed comfort.

"Do you fancy skipping the next session and taking a swim?" asks Cato.

"I'd love to. Won't Brutus and Enobaria mind?" I reply.

"They are still too busy claiming victory in the simulation arena to pay much attention to what I'm doing. Come on. Let's go."

I don't resist as Cato leads me to the nearby swimming pool complex. We choose to use the hot pools and we each undress the other in a playful way before entering the steaming water. Neither of us has brought our swimming costumes with us, but we are alone … apart from the ever present security cameras. To be honest, the thought of some security officer getting a free thrill from watching Cato and I at play simply excites me all the more and makes me more daring. Cato isn't so intrepid, but nevertheless doesn't hesitate to take advantage of my heightened arousal.

"I liked your choice of costume in the arena," says Cato while nibbling my ear. "You should make one like it and add it to your wardrobe."

"I had no influence over my costume, but if you liked it I'll gladly make one and wear it for you when we are alone."

"Only when we are alone? The way you were showing off your costume, I thought you would like to wear it for your interview with Caesar Flickerman. Cinna thought so too."

"You and Cinna were watching us fight?" I ask, not rising to Cato's teasing. I hadn't given any thought to who was watching us kill each other in the virtual arena.

"Yes. All the mentors and support teams were encouraged to watch. It was quite a gathering. It was though we were in the stands surrounding the top of the arena."

"You were among that bloodthirsty rabble baying for blood?"

"Yes and no. It was a strange experience. We were sat in the area where the crowd would be, but there was only us in the room. But I think Cinna is serious about the costume … or something similar."

"Well Cinna's version had better come with larger top. I was practically bursting out of the one I was wearing in the arena."

"Ha ha! Yes … I think we all noticed," chortles Cato. "I suspect that was the effect whoever designed your arena costume had in mind."

"Then why were Johanna and I the only girls wearing such skimpy costumes? We were practically naked. I notice all the other girls wore much more sensible clothing."

"A good question," muses Cato. "You and Johanna are probably the only two girls among the tributes who have the confidence to wear such flimsy and revealing garments without embarrassment. Which implies whoever chose your costumes knows a great deal about each tribute."

"If Ariadne controls the simulation, then she must control the costumes," I say. "Unless she was receiving directions from whoever controls Ariadne through that collar they keep on her."

"Yes, I agree," says Cato. "But why go to all the trouble of customising each tribute's costume for a training exercise?"

"You don't think the Hunger Games arena will be like that arena, do you?"

"No. I very much doubt it. The Games would be over too quickly if everyone was expected to fight it out inside an arena like that. But I think there is more we need to learn about the choice of costumes."

"How do you propose we do that?" I ask.

"I shall make some enquiries among the other mentors and support teams. Perhaps someone saw or heard something that may give us a clue. And our friend arrives tomorrow. Her help will be useful."

Cato is careful not to say Nadia's name. We know the military secret service is hunting Nadia, but we don't know how close they are to finding her. Bringing her here to the Capitol is very risky. She was relatively safe working at Beacon Hill. The army are unlikely to think of looking under their very noses for her. Now the army knows Ariadne is an ARIE they will know the box Nadia hid when she escaped from the Capitol is a decoy. They will be hunting Nadia because she is an ARIE … not because she is a thief who stole the box the army originally thought was an ARIE.

Our conversation peters out as our kissing and touching becomes more fervent. We are soon lost in our own private world where only pleasure and passion exist. It's a world I could happily spend most of my time inhabiting, but I know I can't. We don't linger too long. We only have an hour before lunch and my appetite is returning now the immediate memories of the arena are fading. If we miss lunch, then we go hungry until tonight.

We return to the other tributes as the training session is ending. It seems I wasn't the only tribute to skip this session. The after effects of the blood and gore we witnessed in the virtual arena is likely to affect all but the hardiest of warriors among us. Several tributes don't appear for lunch either.

I take my tray of food to the small table where Wiress and Mags are sat talking. Cato decides to take his lunch to a table where several mentors from different districts are sat. He obviously intends to start his enquiries about the arena costumes straight away while everything is fresh in people's mind.

"Thank you for trying to help Beetee and I in the arena, Katniss," says Wiress. "Few tributes would have risked themselves like that."

"What are allies for if not to help each other," I reply.

"I think you would have come to our aid even if we hadn't agreed an alliance," says Beetee as he joins us.

"Yeah, perhaps. I don't like seeing anyone being butchered by trained killers. I just wish I had reached you in time."

"And I admire the way you didn't let that flimsy costume you were made to wear distract you," says Mags.

"Hmmm. I wish I knew why they left Johanna and I practically naked," I reply.

"Oh, I know why they did that," says Wiress.


	9. 2-3 A symbol of hope

2:3 A Symbol of Hope

I have previously been warned by both Haymitch and Peeta that Wiress is … how can I put it … a little odd. Every now and then she talks in riddles and most people think she's crazy. Which is how she has acquired the nickname Nuts. But Beetee treats her ramblings seriously so I don't completely dismiss her reasoning for my skimpy costume in this morning's arena. However, I've no idea who she is talking about when she says the boatman arranged for Johanna and I to be dressed that way. Questioning Wiress further leads to even more indecipherable riddles. I ask Beetee who the boatman is, but he doesn't know. He is no closer to understanding what Wiress means than I am.

The afternoon training session begins before we can make any more sense of Wiress's riddle. I look for Cato before I return to the training room but he has already left. I was so preoccupied with the riddle Wiress has given us I didn't see Cato leave. I make a point of selecting the same training station as Johanna. I want to talk with her and see if she has any ideas about why her and my costumes in the arena were so different from the other girls.

"I've no idea. Personally I don't care," says Johanna in between lunges at a punch bag. "If the Gamemakers want to look at my incredibly hot younger bod' then let them."

My conversation with Johanna hasn't helped solve the mystery, other than to confirm Cato was right in his assessment … Johanna has sufficient confidence in herself to wear such a costume without it embarrassing or distracting her. But none of this explains why whoever was responsible chose skimpy costumes for Johanna and I.

The trainer critiques my unarmed combat fighting style and shows me a few improvements. At least it means this session hasn't been a total waste of time. I feel quite exhausted when the one hour session is over. Johanna is equally tired but we don't have time to grab more than a couple of minutes breather. I head off towards a training station teaching ways of building a shelter from next to nothing. It promises to be far less demanding than the unarmed combat session. Johanna follows me to the same station. Chaff from District Eleven is here as well.

Chaff and Haymitch are close friends and if I were to make an alliance with one, then I'm likely to acquire the other as an ally as well. Chaff has been friendly towards me despite the numerous ugly rumours President Snow and his supporters have spread about me. However, I'm wary about suggesting an alliance with the pair of them while Haymitch keeps flip-flopping between being my friend and my enemy. This morning Haymitch and I worked well as a team, but his dependency on alcohol makes him an unreliable ally. He might sell me out at a critical moment for the price of a drink. However, Haymitch's opinion of me may be clouded by the lies and half-truths that have been spread about me over the last six months. I make a mental note to spend time with Haymitch, Peeta, Effie and Cinna over the next 24 hours to put the record straight.

Despite her earlier dismissal of my questions about our costumes, Johanna has clearly been giving the subject some thought.

"So you think there is a reason why you and I were dressed the way we were in this morning's arena?" asks Johanna.

"Yes. I believe everything that happens in these simulations has a purpose. But I've no idea why you and I were singled out for such treatment. It's not as though our costumes influenced the fighting in any way."

"Hmmm … I wouldn't dismiss that thought too readily," continues Johanna. "Brutus couldn't take his eyes off you after you flashed your treasures at him. You had him mesmerised for several seconds in the height of battle. It probably saved Haymitch's life."

"I did not flash anything at him," I say defensively.

"Perhaps not deliberately, but you gave him a good peek at what lay beneath your costume. You have obviously been working out and your movements are graceful like those of a dancer. Whether you intended to or not, you bewitched at least one male opponent."

"And what about you?" I ask.

"Ah! I'm not above using any tactics to win my battles. I'd strip naked if it would gain me a victory. I'm not like you. Nobody of importance bothers about what I do. I feel sorry for you though. On one hand you have all the president's men scared of you and trying to destroy you. And on the other hand, the people in the districts respect you and look to you as a symbol of hope. I don't envy your position."

"I think my reputation has pretty much been flushed down the toilet after all the lies that have been spread about me over the last six months," I sigh.

"Those with any common sense won't believe the lies. Besides, you have an interview with Caesar Flickerman the day after tomorrow which will be broadcast live to all of Panem. They can't stop you saying what you like during the interview. It's your chance to show you are still capable of defying the evil men who rule Panem."

"If I say anything they don't approve they will take their vengeance on Cato and our daughter. I'm afraid of putting them in harms way."

"They are already in harms way. You may not have chosen your part in the events of the last year, but there is no going back. Nothing you say, or don't say, now will make them any safer. Do you think your death will make your family any safer? President Snow won't leave anyone linked to you alive in case they become a rallying point for the people. Even your sister will be a target. Your best defence is attack."

"Brave words, but how do I know what is the right thing to do?" I ask.

"You don't. You must have the courage to do what seems right to you at the time. I wish I had done so when I was crowned a Hunger Games victor. But I didn't. Against my better instincts I played safe. It bought some time, but twelve months later my parents, siblings and close friends were all dead. Supposedly in accidents or from incurable diseases, but if you look closely you can see it's all part of the grand plan to limit the influence a victor has over the ordinary people. Ask any victor how many of their family and close friends survived the first year after they were crowned as Hunger Games victor. Only in my case, they made a mistake. They didn't leave anyone I cared about alive. There's nobody they can use as leverage to control me. It's a mistake for which I intend to make them pay."

I don't know if what Johanna is telling me is correct, other than I know Haymitch lost nearly all his family within a year of his victory. And Peeta told me his father died in an accident at their bakery nine months ago and his mother is now very ill. It all fits with what Johanna claims. My family's survival so far may simply be due to the fact I'm not a victor, although it is a tenuous thread on which to base their future safety.

"Do you have a wife and family?" I ask Chaff as the three of us work on a shelter made from building rubble.

"No. Few Hunger Games victors ever marry, and having children is even rarer," he replies. "The lifestyle isn't conducive to marriage. Few victors want to bring children into the world only to risk having them put through what we endured in the Hunger Games arena. You and Cecelia from District Eight are the only tributes with children."

Our conversation breaks up when the trainer moves us on to building individual shelters from branches and leaves. When we have finished I deliberately avoid resuming my discussion with Johanna. A Gamemaker is watching us from the raised podium they use to observe the activity in the training room. I'm cautious in case Johanna and my earlier conversation has been monitored and reported to the Gamemakers. Johanna clearly feels able to throw caution to the wind. I, on the other hand, need to consider Cato and Kaycee.

Cato is waiting for me when the training session ends. He has a very worried look on his face.

"Is everything alright?" I ask. "Is Kaycee OK?"

"Kaycee's fine," replies Cato. "I received a message from Jane at lunchtime. She was worried when Kaycee started acting strange this morning. I went to check Kaycee before troubling you about it. If Kaycee was acting strange this morning then she was her normal self by the time I reached the hotel."

"Then why the worried look?" I ask.

"Um … I'm not certain how to say this, but …"


	10. 2-4 Cato at risk

2:4 Cato at risk

"… Brutus collapsed earlier this afternoon and has been taken to the Training Centre medical facility," continues Cato. "I've been in the District Two apartment since I returned to the Training Centre. The doctors think Brutus has suffered a heart attack. They aren't certain he will recover. Even if he does, he'll not be in any shape to enter the Hunger Games arena in three days time … even a virtual one."

"So what will happen now?" I ask.

"The Gamemakers had a meeting and declared that the wording of the selection criteria for this year's Hunger Games means that as long as Brutus is alive, he must enter the arena," says Cato. "If he dies, then as the person who was originally reaped, I must enter the arena as the District Two male tribute."

The news about Brutus is spreading quickly among the other tributes. A chill runs through my body. What Cato says doesn't surprise me. However, it has been my worst nightmare ever since the reaping. Cato and I may be forced to fight each other in the arena and Kaycee could be an orphan within a week.

"Brutus seemed fit and healthy this morning," says Johanna loudly to no one in particular. "The Gamemakers know that allowing tributes to die before they get into the arena doesn't go down well with the gambling syndicates. I would have thought the medical examination we all endured when we arrived here would have detected the problem, and medication arranged."

I silently agree with Johanna's observations. The medical examination the other day was extremely thorough. If Brutus was anything other than the fit forty year old man he outwardly appears to be, he would have been given medical advice and medication. Which means someone has gone to extraordinary lengths to make sure it is Cato rather than Brutus who enters the Hunger Games arena.

There is no further news about Brutus by the time Cato and I return to our hotel after the 7 pm roll call. Jane has a meal ready for us. She tells me about Kaycee's behaviour this morning while the three of us eat. I match Jane's description of Kaycee's actions with what was happening in the virtual arena. It is difficult to be certain but her heightened activity started and stopped about the same time as today's simulation was running. Somehow Kaycee is sensing when Ariadne is managing a virtual arena.

"I hope you don't mind, but I bought Kaycee this when we were in the park," says Jane after we have finished eating. She hands me a soft toy of a winged creature I don't recognise. "A vendor was selling them near the fountain. It resembles the statues of the creatures around the fountain. Lucas wanted one so I bought one for Kaycee as well."

"I don't mind in the least. Thank you. What sort of creature is it?" I ask.

"A dragon," says Cato. "A mythical flying beast which breathes fire."

"Hmmm … Well one of those on my side in the arena would be very helpful," I joke.

"Just one?" laughs Cato.

Kaycee wakes and I bring her over to where we are sat. She will want her feed when she is fully awake. Jane decides it is time for her to take Lucas back to her room and let the Everdeen family enjoy some precious family time.

Kaycee sees the dragon Jane bought for her and reaches out to take it. She promptly starts playing with it. I hope it is well made because Kaycee isn't being gentle with it. Perhaps it is my imagination but I think Kaycee must sense a dragon is a fearsome beast because, unlike when she plays with her other soft toys, she is making growling sounds as she plays.

Later that night Cato and I are locked in each others arms. Neither of us is able to sleep. The prospect of Cato having to enter the Hunger Games arena frightens me. I had briefly hoped one of us would escape President Snow's wrath. After my talk with Johanna this afternoon I realise I was deluding myself. Even Kaycee is far from safe. If nothing else, President Snow is thorough. If he wants revenge, he won't stop at me. He will have Cato, Kaycee, Prim, my mother and anyone else he believes is connected to me, killed as well.

"If we enter the arena together, I want Kaycee in the room with us," I say to Cato.

"Why?" replies Cato. "Jane will take good care of her. If neither of us survives the arena, then she will take Kaycee back to Beacon Hill where the Colonel's family will adopt Kaycee as one of their own. How are you going to feed and care for Kaycee while your mind is locked inside the arena? Who will look after her?"

All perfectly good questions to which I have no ready answer. However I fear if Kaycee is separated from us then neither Cato nor I will ever see her again regardless of the outcome in the arena. And I doubt Jane will be allowed to make it back to the relative safety of Beacon Hill with Kaycee. These Games are going to be a high stakes event and anybody remotely connected to the main players is at risk. Johanna is right … my best defence is attack. I need a workable plan … and I need it now.

Cato and I eventually fall asleep and the next thing I know is the sound of Kaycee crying for her night feed. She occasionally sleeps through this feed, but not tonight. Cato is also stirring but I tell him I can manage and to go back to sleep. I check Kaycee is really wanting a feed and is not just being restless. She is hungry so I take her to the chair I normally sit in while I feed her. I nearly scream out in alarm. Nadia is sat in the chair with the far away look she adopts when she is busy working on something.

"Oh, hello," says Nadia, returning to her normal self when she senses my presence. "I didn't want to disturb you when I arrived."

"Hi, Nadia. When did you arrive? We could have met you at the station. How did you get in here?"

"I arrived a couple of hours ago courtesy of the army. Getting in here wasn't difficult. The hotel's security system which controls the electronic door locks isn't that hard to defeat."

"Well I'm glad you're here," I say. "There have been several developments today. I need your advice."

"That's why I came. As I told you six months ago, my mission is to help you ignite the revolution. Elena and the others in District Eight are ready to take action. They just need your signal to begin. But we can discuss that later. What news have you to tell me?"

"It's hard to know where to begin. The army must have discovered Ariadne is an ARIE and they are controlling her through a collar locked around her neck. The Hunger Games tributes have been training in two simulations Ariadne has created. My black cat daemon appeared in both of them and I was able to stop one of the simulations by talking to Ariadne through my daemon."

"Hmmm … Perhaps the collar doesn't fully control Ariadne's sigma keys," replies Nadia. "If her sigma keys were fully activated you would need help to override the commands of whoever controls her."

"There's more. Brutus, the District Two tribute, has had a heart attack. Several tributes are suspicious about the cause of Brutus's sudden illness. If he dies, Cato will be required to enter the Hunger Games arena in his place."

"Ah! There I believe I have more recent news. The Gamemakers announced Brutus died a few hours ago. I overheard it on the army news network while I was on my way to the Capitol."

"I believe it is part of a plot to have Cato enter the Hunger Games arena. President Snow wants Cato and I dead. I'm worried he also means to harm Kaycee as well."

"I think you are right to be concerned. I'm glad you changed your mind about having me here with you. These Hunger Games are getting dangerous for several reasons. We must be careful, but above all, we must win."


	11. 2-5 A new tribute

2:5 A new tribute

Kaycee sees Nadia and holds out her hands for a cuddle. Nadia and I put aside our worries for the moment and the three of us play for a short while. Sleep eventually overcomes Kaycee and I return her to her cot.

"Kaycee is adorable," says Nadia. "And she has a powerful mind. She can link to me, mind to mind, when we are near each other. Of course, as you would expect from an infant her age, there is very little structure to her thoughts. But she is learning fast."

I tell Nadia about what Jane has observed in Kaycee's behaviour while the simulations were in progress. I also tell her about my wish to have Kaycee with Cato and I when we enter the simulation room. Nadia goes thoughtful for a while.

"The only way that could work would be for Kaycee to enter the actual Hunger Games simulation with you," says Nadia. "But you will be handicapping yourself and putting Kaycee at risk. She is defenceless and could easily be killed in the arena. Why not leave her with Jane and I? We will protect her with our lives."

"I know you will. Kaycee is at risk whatever we do," I reply. "And once Cato and I enter the Hunger Games arena, your and Jane's lives will most certainly be at risk while Kaycee is in your care. I'd rather have Kaycee with me in the arena than leave her as a target for unseen assassins in my absence. Look how easily they disposed of Brutus. If the Gamemakers and their overlords think they can kill us all in the arena, they are unlikely to try and kill Kaycee by other means."

"Hmmm … you make a good point. If the Gamemakers allow you to take Kaycee into the arena then I will do what I can to help you all while you are in the arena. When are you due to enter the next training simulation?"

"I presume today's simulation will be at the same time as the last two … about 10 o'clock this morning."

"In which case I shall join Jane and the children and observe Kaycee's actions," says Nadia.

I leave Nadia to her planning and return to bed. I need to grab a few hours sleep or I'll be unable to cope with the demands of today's simulation.

Morning arrives all too soon and after a quick reunion between Cato, Jane and Nadia we set about our daily tasks. I tell Cato about Brutus's death, which he takes as stoically as anyone who has been handed a death sentence can. We don't have time to dwell on the issue. Cato and I report to the Training Centre in time for the morning roll call. We are still in the entrance lobby when a Gamemaker formally advises Cato he is now the tribute for District Two.

We spend a few moments embracing and kissing before going to our respective district's apartment. Haymitch is up and ready, but there's no sign of Peeta, Effie or Cinna yet.

"Good morning, Haymitch," I say. "I take it you've heard the news about Brutus."

"Yes. I'm sorry that Cato must now replace him. It must be difficult for you both."

"It isn't entirely unexpected. President Snow wants the entire Everdeen family erased, so a plot to ensure Cato enters the arena doesn't surprise me."

"Well, I don't know about any plot," replies Haymitch. "The Gamemakers are saying nothing about how Brutus's heart condition wasn't detected during the medical examinations, but they are behaving as though his death was from natural causes. Even so, changing tributes so close to the start of the Hunger Games will cause the Gamemakers a few headaches. Last time something like this occurred they had to postpone the start of the Games by several days."

"Well I'm not going to feel sorry for the Gamemakers. They can postpone the Games indefinitely as far as I'm concerned."

In truth, a delay of a few days won't make any difference in the end, but anything that makes life uncomfortable for the Gamemakers is alright by me. Peeta and Effie arrive, and confirm what Haymitch has just told me. With the Gamemakers preoccupied with Brutus's death, I decide now might be the best time to request that Kaycee be with me when we enter the Hunger Games arena. I ask Effie to arrange for Cato and I to meet with Head Gamemaker as soon as possible. She makes a few telephone calls and ten minutes later she announces the Plutarch Heavensbee will meet with us at 9 o'clock. I hadn't expected such a rapid reply to my request, nor a meeting scheduled so soon, but at least I won't be left waiting and wondering.

I place a telephone call to Cato and ask him to meet me by the swimming pool in half an hour. I need to discuss my idea with him and get his agreement to my plan. Cato agrees to meet me and I quickly grab a light breakfast. Cato is waiting for me when I arrive. Neither of us has taken a shower this morning, so we decide to discuss my plan while sharing a shower here in the swimming pool complex. Besides, anyone monitoring our conversation will have difficulty in picking up our words over the noise of running water.

Cato listens to my plan as we wash each other. If some parts of our bodies get washed more thoroughly than others then neither of us minds in the least. As for my plan, I can tell Cato isn't very enthusiastic and is probably trying to find a gentle way of refusing. But I'm convinced my plan to have Kaycee with me will not only work, but it is the right course of action to take … even if other options may seem safer at the moment.

Although Cato likes to be lord and master in our relationship, he knows I'm not some weak willed submissive female who meekly accepts her husband's commands. I may play the part of a submissive girl … even a sensuous slave girl … for him at times, but Cato is well aware that isn't my true nature. Now is not the time for me to play such a subservient role. Before Cato can answer I go on the offensive. My first target is the beast. Once I control that, then Cato is my plaything to do as I wish. Plenty of soap and my well practised hands have him whimpering for more. At first I provide the pleasure he desires but I'm careful not to go too far. He needs to acknowledge I'm in control and that his compliance will earn him greater pleasure still. My winning move comes when I kneel down before him and claim the beast with my lips. I have his full agreement to my plan by the time I grant him the release he desperately needs. Cato can be such an easy pushover sometimes.

Of course I can't use the same tactics to gain Plutarch Heavensbee's consent. Well … I suppose I could … but I'm not that sort of girl. Cato and I are invited into the Head Gamemaker's office where Plutarch Heavensbee is waiting for us.

"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen," says Heavensbee in a neutral tone. "If you have come to plead for Cato's release from his obligations as the new District Two tribute, then you are wasting your breath and my time. As you are aware, I have a major problem requiring my attention this morning."

"We are not here to plead for my release," says Cato, treating Heavensbee's comment as an insult to Cato's honour. "As you are aware, we have a three month old daughter. We wish you to make arrangements for her to be with Katniss while we are in the simulation room."

"What an unusual request. My answer must be 'no', of course. Only our technicians and the tributes may enter the simulation room. The facility is not designed for an infant … or indeed anybody … to be in the simulation room while the tributes are inside the virtual arena."

"Then let me take Kaycee into the Hunger Games arena," I say.

"What?!" says Heavensbee in complete surprise. "Your child isn't eligible or suitable to be a tribute. Your request is declined. Now please report to the Training Centre. Today is the last day of training and I advise you take full advantage of the training on offer."


	12. 2-6 Mythical creatures

2:6 Mythical Creatures

I suppose I should have known Plutarch Heavensbee would refuse my request. I was so convinced that he and the other Gamemakers wanted the three of us dead, I thought he would leap at my suggestion. Cato tries to console me but I think he is secretly relieved at the outcome. I wish I didn't have this nagging fear about Kaycee's safety.

We report to the Training Centre and join the dozen or so tributes participating in one or other of the normal training sessions in progress. The simulation training will start in the second session like it did yesterday. A number of other tributes arrive over the next half hour, so all twenty four tributes are present by the time the simulation training is scheduled to begin.

"Today's simulation will test your survival skills rather than your fighting skills. There will be four teams. Each team will start at a different location in the arena and must find their way to your target. You will be given a map and supplies. The tributes from Districts One, Five and Nine will be the red team; Two, Six and Ten the blue team; Three, Seven and Eleven the green team; and Four, Eight and Twelve the yellow team. Good luck … and watch out for the unexpected!"

We are taken to the same room as yesterday and I see Ariadne sat at the raised chair in the middle of the twenty four cylinders. She is again wearing the thick collar around her neck and the same two men as yesterday are fussing about around her. Sarah doesn't seem to be here today. Without anyone telling us to, we each go to the same cylinder we entered yesterday. Enobaria shows Cato the one Brutus selected yesterday.

Seconds later I'm standing inside the ruins of a city building. The scene is similar to the destruction I saw in District Eight during the winter uprising. I think the two tributes from District Eight, Cecelia and Woof, have the same feeling. Although Woof is in a sixteen year old body, his real age is closer to eighty. He still thinks and behaves like an old man. Finnick and Mags from District Four, and Haymitch make up our team. Finnick finds a bag containing our instructions and supplies and promptly hands everything to me.

"You're our leader. Tell us what we need to do," says Finnick. I look at him in disbelief. By what right does he choose me to be leader. Unfortunately the other four are happy to support Finnick's choice of leader and they look at me expectantly. As much as I would like to have a role with less responsibility, I don't make an issue of it.

I read the instructions aloud. It seems a simple enough task. All we need to do is navigate our way through the ruined city to the location shown on the map. We have two hours to cover a distance of about two kilometres. There's ample time to cover that distance. Of course I know it won't be that simple.

"Who can read a map?" I ask. It seems I'm the only one to have bothered with the map reading training and none of us have had much call to use maps before.

"OK," I continue. "I'll look after the map. What other supplies do we have?"

Cecelia rummages through the contents of the bag. There's six small water bottles, a small knife and a medical kit. We will be travelling light. At least I get to wear some normal clothes this time.

Each of us takes a water bottle. Finnick takes the knife and Mags the first aid kit. I consult the map and take my bearings. The starting position of each of the four teams is shown on the map, but not which team starts at which location. I need to work our location from the direction of the sun and the layout of the streets around us.

"We need to go down the street over there," I say with as much confidence as I can manage. I hope I'm right since we could be at one of two locations shown on the map. If we see a river in a few minutes then I'll know I've chosen the wrong starting location and will need to adjust our route.

"Let's go then," says Haymitch.

"Wait," I say. "We need to be careful we don't fall into any traps. Finnick and Haymitch will take the lead and guide us clear of anything suspicious. Cecelia will take the rear and watch for anything or anyone approaching us from behind Mags and Woof will do the same for our left and right flanks. I'll keep an eye on what is above us in case there is anything lurking on top of these tall buildings.

We set off at a cautious pace. We don't get far before Finnick spots something moving near a pile of rubble in the middle of the street. On his signal we hide in the entrance to the nearby building. There is no shortage of hiding places, but we can't afford to stop too many times. We have no weapons apart from the small knife Finnick holds, so stealth rather than brute force is called for here. Of course there could be weapons hidden inside the ruined buildings. Some of them look as though they were once shops, but stopping to conduct a search could waste valuable time to no avail.

Woof is clumsy in his movements and knocks over a rusting metal container. It makes a clatter that alerts whatever Finnick saw ahead. Suddenly we all see it … and wish we didn't. The creature leaps onto the top of the pile of rubble it was near and looks around. It isn't any creature I recognise. Like the dragon Cato described to me last night, this creature looks as though it is some mythical animal. Not a nice one, either. Although no longer than a metre in length it is all scales and sharp teeth with a temperament to match. It lets out a piercing shriek and we all stay perfectly still. Fortunately it doesn't see us hidden in the shadows and makes no move in our direction. After a few moments it returns to whatever it was doing before we disturbed it.

On my signal we backtrack to the street corner we had just passed and head down a side street. The street opens out into a small square with a broken statue in the middle. The square matches the one shown on my map. I'm now confident I know our correct location. My instincts tell me we should walk around the edge of the square, but Haymitch, Finnick and Mags are some distance ahead of Cecelia, Woof and I and are already crossing towards the statue. The statue suddenly moves and we realise to our horror that it isn't a statue at all. It's another creature similar to the one we saw moments before. It turns towards us and bares its teeth. Finnick draws his knife, although such a tiny weapon will be useless against this creature. Haymitch and Mags retreat towards us, while Finnick tries to distract the creature long enough for them to escape.

The creature decides Haymitch and Mags are better prey. With a sudden leap it begins its charge towards them, brushing Finnick aside. There is nothing any of us can do to reach Haymitch and Mags in time. But the creature never reaches its prey. Suddenly a narrow wall of flame shot from above engulfs it in fire. The stricken creature screams and writhes on the floor for a few moments before going silent. The source of the flame is a flying creature which lands nearby. This time I recognise the strange creature … it's a dragon. From Cato's description I had expected a huge beast, but this one is less than two metres in length. Nevertheless it has easily disposed of a dangerous creature that could have made short work of all of us.

The dragon claims it's prey, and while it is busy, the six of us make a hasty escape around the square and along the street which will eventually lead us to our destination. As if to confirm we are on the right route, a black cat appears from the remains of a rusting vehicle. I send a questing thought and the cat's reaction confirms it is my daemon. As usual when it is in a virtual arena, the cat is invisible to everyone else. Cato has this theory that I control whether the cat can be seen by people other than myself. If that's so, then I've no idea how I do it. The cat heads off in the direction we need to go, but takes a detour when we approach a main intersection. So far I have followed the cat without question and we haven't seen any more creatures. Our destination is almost in sight and this detour will delay us. Haymitch and Finnick make a point of voicing their frustration. However, we have plenty of time and I trust the cat's instincts to guide us out of trouble.

"This intersection could be a trap," I say with as much authority as I can muster. "We will be out in the open for nearly a minute. Any creature in the neighbourhood would likely see us. I think we should see if there is a safer way to get to the other side. We have plenty of time."

"Yeah, but the other teams could all have finished by the time we do that," says Finnick. "We would look foolish arriving last. I say we run like the wind across the intersection and get this over with."

"This isn't a race," I reply. "It doesn't matter if we arrive last. It is far more important that we all arrive alive."

Finnick clearly doesn't agree. It looks as though I've got a revolt on my hands.


	13. 2-7 Toasted tribute

2:7 Toasted tribute

The easy course of action would be for me to let Finnick, and anyone who wants to follow him, make their own way from here. We are close enough to our destination to make the map unnecessary. But I trust the black cat to warn me of danger, which it has just done. Crossing the intersection ahead will be dangerous and I must convince Finnick to follow me.

"You chose me as your leader for this mission, Finnick," I say. "As your leader, I say we take a safer route across this intersection. You saw how helpless you were to protect yourself in the square. You can't fight or outrun those creatures."

"But how do you know the creatures aren't lurking along the route you are about to take us," replies Finnick. "You tell us there is danger ahead, yet none of us can see it."

"I simply trust my instincts, Finnick. I can only do what I think is right. If you don't like it, then next time … if there is a next time … you should choose another leader. Now follow me."

I don't wait for Finnick's reply before walking off in the direction the black cat took. The trail leads us into a building and down a wide staircase. The black cat waits patiently at the bottom of the stairs. It's very dim down here but a hole in ceiling a short distance ahead lets in enough light to see a tunnel ahead. From the experience I gained exploring the disused underground railway tunnels in District Eight, I think this tunnel leads to the other side of the intersection. I wait a few moments for anyone following me to catch up. Cecelia and Mags soon join me, followed a short while later by Woof and Haymitch. Finally Finnick joins us.

Without any further words I lead the way along the tunnel. The light from the collapsed ceiling doesn't stretch far enough to see the other end of the tunnel. Before long we have to grope our way along the tunnel. Without any order from me we link hands so as not to leave anyone behind. I follow the faint mewing sound from the black cat, which is a metre or so ahead of me. After five minutes of walking at a snail's pace I notice the tunnel is getting lighter. I can just make out the white tiled walls and before long I can detect some stairs leading up.

By the time we reach the bottom of the stairs we can all see well enough to no longer need to hold onto each other. The cat doesn't hesitate to go up the stairs and I follow. The others quickly join me. The top of the stairs is inside another ruined building and we carefully work our way through the rubble towards the exit to the street outside. I tell the others to remain hidden while Finnick and I take a quick look around.

Sure enough, we are on the opposite side of the main intersection and our destination is only a hundred metres away along the street to our left. We are about to rejoin the others when we see another team of tributes on the other side of the intersection. I recognise Gloss and Cashmere, which means it must be the red team. I can only see four of them crossing the intersection though. They must have lost two of their team.

The way the team is moving suggests that they too have previously encountered some of the creatures. They are continually scanning their surroundings and the air above them. They are half way across when a bellowing sound shatters the silence. I can't tear my eyes away as a four metre long dragon lands in front of their path. The team turns and runs back towards the relative safety of the rubble on the other side of the road. The dragon spits a wide stream of flaming liquid in their direction. I can't see whether all of them were caught, but it would be instant death for anyone who was hit by the wall of flame. Finnick and I return to the others while the dragon is busy on the other side of the road.

"We need to leave at once," I say. "There's a dragon out there, but it is busy for the moment."

The cat leads the way at a brisk pace and we follow at a steady jog. We cover the hundred metres to the place which the map says is our destination. There's a short section of what must have once been a two metre high wall. But I can't see any marker to say we have found our goal. We are still inside the simulation, so there must be something more to be done.

"Now what?" asks Haymitch. "Are you sure we are in the right place?"

I look at the map. I read the instructions again. I'm certain we are in the right place and with ten minutes to spare.

"Read the instructions to us again," says Cecelia. I do as she asks.

"… reach the destination two hours after you start," I read out aloud.

"Wait!" says Mags. "It doesn't say within two hours. It simply says two hours. Perhaps we are too early."

What Mags says makes sense. But it means we must find somewhere to hide for the next ten minutes. The cat has disappeared so is no longer any help to me. The area around us looks like a small park or gardens that have reverted to nature. There's nowhere useful for us to hide from the creatures that roam this arena. It we move too far away we may not be able to get back here in time.

We settle for hiding in the low bushes about twenty metres from where the map says our goal is located. A few minutes later we hear something approaching. We let out a collective sigh of relief when we see that it isn't a creature but three other tributes. Cato, Enobaria and the male tribute from District Ten; the survivors of the blue team. They seem equally relieved to see us. Enobaria is sporting a nasty gash on her arm and Mags uses our first aid kit to tend to her wound. Their own kit was lost in their flight from one of the creatures.

Exactly two hours after we started a door appears in the wall. The nine of us don't hesitate to run to the door. The next thing we know we are back in the real world. We are the only tributes to make it through the simulation alive, although in reality all the tributes are unharmed. Those who 'died' simply woke up in their cylinder and were taken to the debriefing room to wait for the rest of us.

There's a lot of discussion about our experience in the arena. If this training didn't have a sinister purpose I think several tributes would be willing to make another attempt. A Gamemaker joins our discussion.

"The creatures you faced were from ancient mythology," answers the Gamemaker to Beetee's question. "As several of you discovered, your chances of fighting them and winning were practically non-existent. Those of you who evaded the creatures were the only ones who survived. I hope you learned the lessons taught in this simulation, because you enter an equally challenging arena in two days time. Only with the Hunger Games arena there will only be one person leaving it alive."

We finish our discussion and go for lunch. Finnick comes over to the table where Cato and I are eating.

"I want to apologise for doubting your leadership, Katniss," says Finnick. "You can rely on my support in future."

"Thank you, Finnick. But next time I suggest you give more thought to who should be leader. People are more likely to follow you than me."

"If I had been leader, our team would have probably suffered the same fate as the red and green teams."

Finnick leaves Cato and I to ourselves.

"You did well to bring all your team through that exercise," says Cato.

"I had help from the black cat," I admit.

"Me too," replies Cato. "The three of us nearly didn't make it. The black cat guided me to safety. The other two simply followed me."

We share a kiss and allow our relief at surviving the simulation to wash over us. If only we can survive the Hunger Games arena as easily. We enjoy our moment of intimacy; there may not be many more of them.

[end of episode 2]


	14. 3-1 The boatman

Episode 3: Veni Vidi Vici

3:1 The boatman

This afternoon each tribute has a private session with the Gamemakers. It is when we each show off our respective skills and are assessed. The Gamemakers decide our final score and will announce them tonight to all of Panem. A high score indicates the Gamemakers think your chances of winning these Hunger Games are good, which in turn influences potential sponsors and gamblers. However, these Games are unusual in that all of the tributes have been inside a Hunger Games arena before. Each tribute has publicly demonstrated his or her abilities. In some cases many years have passed since then, but the virtual arena is able to erase the physical effects of ageing.

The other unusual factor in this year's Games is the unprecedented political interference from President Snow and his henchmen. I'm certain the rumours are true that President Snow has ordered that I, and probably Cato, mustn't be allowed to leave the Hunger Games arena alive. The Head Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee, has already warned me to say my farewells to Cato and our daughter, Kaycee, before entering the Hunger Games arena.

Cato and I finish our lunch and prepare for this afternoon's assessments. Since Cato is the male tribute for District Two, he will be one of the first to demonstrate his skills to the Gamemakers. As the female tribute for District Twelve, I'll be the last. Which means I've a few hours spare before I'm required to report to the room where the assessments are made. I wish Cato good luck with the assessment before going to the District Twelve apartment. I want to talk with Cinna about my costume for tomorrow night's interview with Caesar Flickerman. I'm waiting by the elevator when Plutarch Heavensbee walks up to me.

"Ah, Mrs. Everdeen," says Heavensbee. "After our meeting this morning, I and the other Gamemakers have been discussing your unusual request. While I cannot allow you to take your daughter with you into the Hunger Games arena, I may be able to offer a compromise solution. If you have a few minutes I would like to discuss the subject with you."

"Um … Sure. Don't you have the assessment sessions to attend now?"

"The other Gamemakers have all that in hand. This year the assessments are not really necessary, but we are going through the formality anyway."

Plutarch Heavensbee escorts me to his office. I don't know what to make of him. He holds the life and well being of all the tributes in the palm of his hand, but I also know he is little more than a puppet to President Snow's whims. I don't trust Heavensbee, but I am at his mercy. He invites me to sit down in a leather chair next to a small table. He sits in the adjacent chair.

"Tell me why you wish your daughter to be with you inside the Hunger Games arena?" begins Heavensbee.

I'm torn between spinning a false story about how a mother can't bear to be away from her infant child, and confronting him with the raw truth … that despite the odds being heavily stacked against us, the Everdeen family will live or die together.

"As you yourself have warned me, you and your political masters have no intention of allowing me to win these Games," I reply. "So I'm left with two options … I escape from the arena or I die. Either way your political masters will kill those close to me if they can. So I am presenting you with a choice regarding my daughter. On one hand you can allow her to be with me in the arena. That way you know where she is, but must overcome Cato and I first. Or, on the other hand, you can refuse my request and run the risk of her disappearing out of your reach."

"Brave words for someone who has few friends or allies here in the Capitol. I agree your daughter would be difficult for an assassin to reach if she made it back to District Eight. But it is a long journey for your friend Jane to make with two infants. Anything could happen along the way."

"If your masters are so confident of their ability to stop my daughter's escape, then why are we having this conversation?"

"Hah! You are far more intelligent than many of your opponents believe. Not only are you a born survivor and symbol of hope for those who follow you, but you are extremely dangerous when cornered."

"You must surely know a mother will protect her child with every resource available to her. Even if it risks her own life. I'm no different from most other mothers."

"I think even you underestimate yourself," chortles Heavensbee. "But you have answered my original question truthfully so I shall do you the courtesy of acknowledging your courage and tell you the conditions under which your daughter may be near you while you are inside the Hunger Games arena.

"Firstly, your request for your daughter to be with you inside the Hunger Games arena, and my refusal, will made public. You will be required to defend your request during your interview tomorrow night with Caesar Flickerman.

"Secondly, you will responsible for arranging someone to care for your daughter while you are inside the Hunger Games arena. They will not be allowed to leave the venue while the Hunger Games are in progress.

"Thirdly, should both you and your husband die in the arena then I and the other Gamemakers will have no further responsibility for the protection and safety of your daughter, or her carer. As you already know, you have powerful enemies. My powers only extend to the Hunger Games and not what happens afterwards.

"Do you agree to these conditions?"

"I do," I reply. It isn't what I really wanted, but it is a compromise I can live with.

"Very well. Then tomorrow morning you must bring your daughter, and whoever you choose to care for her, to the Training Centre. They will be given a medical examination and security passes for the venue will be prepared. You must also have your daughter with you at your interview with Caesar Flickerman tomorrow night. I advise you to prepare for some difficult questions about why you wanted to risk the life of your infant daughter inside the Hunger Games arena."

"You haven't said why you are allowing Kaycee to be near me," I say.

"Just put it down to an old showman recognising an opportunity for a good piece of entertainment. You are far more likely to carry out your attempt to escape from the arena if you believe your daughter is within your reach. I've no idea how you intend effect such an escape, but I'm sure it will be entertaining and attract a lot more public interest in these Games."

"You regard your job as being nothing more than a showman?" I ask, surprised as his disingenuous description of his position as Head Gamemaker.

"Like you, I am not a volunteer for my role in these Games. For years I travelled up and down the great river linking the eastern districts on a showboat. We stopped at towns and cities to provide entertainment of various kinds … legal and not-so-legal. I miss those days of being nothing more than a showboat man."

A almost laugh in disbelief. Plutarch Heavensbee is little more than a clever entertainer; a showboat-man. A boatman! He's the man Wiress was talking about! The man who ordered Johanna and I to be dressed in next to nothing during yesterday's training simulation.

"Now, if you have no further questions, I believe you have some preparations to make," says Heavensbee.

"I do have one question," I say. "Why did you order Johanna Mason and I to be practically naked during the training simulation yesterday?"

"Hah! See … you are cleverer than even I thought! Image, Mrs. Everdeen. Your image in the eyes of the people all across Panem is what will help win or lose the battles we will face in times to come. I wanted to see if the information we have gathered about you and Miss Mason is correct. You will be pleased to learn you both passed our test with flying colours."

It's not the clear answer I had hoped for, but it confirms there is more at play here than just the 75th Hunger Games. Even Heavensbee is hinting at the barely contained unrest across Panem. A tiny spark could set the whole of Panem afire with rebellion. From his demeanour I think if that happened, Plutarch Heavensbee would simply enjoy the show as the whole political situation unravels.


	15. 3-2 A fiery dance

3:2 A Fiery Dance

When I leave Plutarch Heavensbee's office, I still have 90 minutes before I need to report to the room where the assessments are conducted. I go up to the District Twelve apartment to look for Cinna. I walk in to find Peeta, Cinna and Effie busy discussing something with Haymitch.

"Ah! There you are, sweetheart," says Haymitch when he sees me. "We were just discussing what we need to do tomorrow to prepare for Caesar Flickerman's interview."

"I will write a script for each of you," says Effie. "You must be very careful what you say. There are rumours about agitators stirring up trouble in some of the districts. There is even talk of workers going on strike. You mustn't say anything that could inflame the situation."

Effie looks at me for some sign of reassurance that I will do as she suggests. It's a reassurance I cannot give. Johanna is right when she says the only hope Cato, Kaycee and I have of surviving these Games is to take the offensive. These Hunger Games will be a watershed; not only the Everdeen family but for the people of the districts. Either the smouldering unrest across the districts ignites into a rebellion, or the people let the opportunity pass and remain oppressed for another generation.

"Katniss? Do you agree with what I say?" asks Effie.

"No," I reply. "These Games are a watershed. There is too much at stake to back down now. President Snow and the Gamemakers have brought some of the most influential personalities from the districts into one place for these Games. It is a mistake they must be made to regret. President Snow wants to suppress the unrest in the districts by killing as many of the Hunger Games victors as he can. But in doing so he his gambling that the victors will play by his rules. Cato and I may not be victors, but we've no intention of playing by anyone's rules."

"Don't you think you are in enough trouble with the authorities as it is?" scolds Effie. "After they brought you and Cato back to life after last year's Games I thought you would be grateful and keep out of trouble. And what about the risk to your daughter's life?"

"Kaycee's life is already in great danger regardless of what I say or do," I retort. "Cato and I will do what we can to protect her. You may as well know that the Head Gamemaker has just given his approval for Kaycee to be near me when we enter the arena. As for the nonsense about Cato and I being brought back to life last year, perhaps it's time you knew the truth."

I spend the next hour telling them about everything that has occurred in my life over the last year. Telling them the truth about the virtual arena at the end of the 74th Hunger Games, and Peeta's unwitting role in it, takes them all by surprise. My life and role in the winter uprising in District Eight shocks Effie, but not the others. My arrest, trial, death sentence and last minute reprieve puts a whole new light on events compared to what they thought they knew before. I don't mention anything about the black cat or my ability to disrupt a virtual scene. I don't think they are ready to believe that part of my tale.

By the time I finish we have only a few minutes to discuss our plan for tomorrow before Haymitch and I must report to the assessment room. We leave Peeta, Effie and Cinna arguing about tactics. There's every chance they will still be arguing when we return.

"I owe you an apology," says Haymitch. "I believed all the lies and misinformation spread about you. Now I realise what you mean when you say these Games will be a watershed. If the prospect of popular Hunger Games victors being forced to fight each other to the death doesn't anger people enough to make them rebel, then nothing will."

"You aren't the only one who fell for President Snow's lies," I reply. "It is something I must try and correct at tomorrow night's interview. It will be my only chance to say something to the people of Panem without my words being edited before they are broadcast."

Haymitch signals me to be careful about what I say. The ever present security cameras are probably recording our conversation. But I'm not unduly worried about them hearing what I just said. The Gamemakers must surely know the risks in allowing twenty four well known and discontented men and women an unrestricted opportunity to say exactly what they want to all of Panem. I suspect Plutarch Heavensbee would prefer to cancel Caesar Flickerman's interviews … or at least delay the broadcast. But the interviews are a traditional part of the Hunger Games and any attempt to silence the tributes could inflame the unrest. Besides, the interviews are conducted before a huge studio audience and no amount of censorship could prevent whatever was said from being spread far and wide.

Haymitch enters the assessment room to show off his skills to the Gamemakers. The other tributes aren't supposed to know what routine each tribute performs as part of the assessment, but earlier on Haymitch hinted he would give them a demonstration of how to stagger about and fall down drunk. Since he was stone cold sober when he entered the assessment room, I presume his performance will be acted rather than real. I wait in the small ante-room for my turn. It dawns on me I have no routine prepared. Perhaps I'll recite some of the poetry I read while I was a prisoner at Fort Centennial. I studied and practised a lot of things during my three month long incarceration … some of it has proved useful in the most unlikely situations.

Ten minutes later I'm called into the room. Haymitch has already left by another door. I look around the room. The six Gamemakers are sat in easy chairs on the raised platform at one end of the room. Around the rest of the room is the usual array of equipment and weapons. The slight trace of smoke in the air suggests one of the earlier tributes has lit something. I try to place the smell and realise it isn't wood or tobacco smoke. The aroma suggests one or other of the many social drugs popular in the Capitol.

"You may begin when you are ready, Mrs. Everdeen," says a rather bored sounding Gamemaker.

I look at the other Gamemakers. They all look as though they would rather be somewhere else after a tedious and boring afternoon. I can see why Plutarch Heavensbee decided against attending in person.

"Since I and all of you clearly want to be somewhere else, how about we just pretend I've given you a stunning display of archery and we all go about our business?" I suggest.

"A tempting thought, but alas we must abide by the regulations," replies Plutarch Heavensbee as he enters the room through a door that leads straight onto the platform. "You must demonstrate at least one skill for ten minutes. Archery will be acceptable, but any of your more unusual talents would be better."

The other Gamemakers look daggers at Plutarch Heavensbee. I suspect they would have quite happily agreed to my suggestion had the Head Gamemaker not just arrived.

"And which unusual talent would you like me to demonstrate?" I ask, not certain what Heavensbee is suggesting.

"I believe you have become an exceptionally good dancer," replies Heavensbee. "I think my colleagues have had a long tiring afternoon and would like a little light relief. And you could regard your demonstration as a small thank you for my generosity regarding your daughter."

"Hah! You want me to dance for you! A waltz? A folk dance? You'll need to imagine the music."

"I think we can go one better than that," says Heavensbee. "We can provide some music … Why don't you improvise a dance to go with the music?"

Plutarch Heavensbee goes over to a control panel and a few moments later some music starts. I don't recognise the tune but it has a fast beat suited to a fiery dance. I remove my boots and step into the centre of the room. At the last minute I decide my jacket and trousers had best go as well. I'll never last ten minutes dancing at this music's pace with all that weight on me. My undershirt and pants mean I'm still decent, but after a couple of minutes I start sweating and my top starts to cling to me. By the time I finish none of the Gamemakers look bored any more. I give a short curtsy which earns me a short round of applause. I dress and leave the room as quickly as I can. I'm not certain what Cato will say when I tell him what I did in here. For some reason I feel excited. The thought that I held seven Gamemakers entranced for ten minutes makes me feel both very feminine and very powerful. I may have stumbled across a way to distract them long enough to effect an escape from the arena.


	16. 3-3 In defence of your honour

3:3 In defence of your honour

As soon as I leave the assessment room I go up to the District Twelve apartment. Haymitch has had no success in resolving the disagreement between Cinna, Peeta and Effie. Cinna is in favour of us taking a bold approach to the interview tomorrow, while Effie is for us keeping a low profile and not causing any trouble. Unfortunately Peeta is showing his inexperience and isn't helping them to reach agreement … not that Haymitch has been able to do any better in the ten minutes he has been here.

"Stop arguing," I snap. "Whatever you decide, Haymitch and I are the ones who will be sat with Caesar Flickerman in front of the camera. I will say whatever I feel is the right thing to say, regardless of any script you have written."

"Many of the other tributes are likely to vent their anger during the interview," says Haymitch. "There is a lot of discontent among the older tributes. President Snow has broken the long held understanding that a Hunger Games victor has earned the right to a comfortable life in exchange for supporting future Hunger Games."

Effie is far from happy and Peeta is dithering. Cinna looks pleased, but has the sense not to push things too far today.

"I'll do some more work on options for your interview costume, Katniss," says Cinna. "Meet me around eleven o'clock tomorrow morning and I'll show you what I've prepared. You can then choose the one you prefer."

After thanking Cinna, and leaving Effie and Peeta to mull over what was said, I go down to the swimming pool. While I didn't arrange a specific time or location to meet Cato, the swimming pool has become our unofficial meeting place. There is nearly two hours before Cato and I can return to our hotel and see Kaycee, Nadia, Jane and Lucas. I find Cato waiting for me in the main pool. We greet each other with a kiss and embrace.

"How did your assessment session go?" I ask Cato.

"Alright, I suppose," replies Cato. "I gave them a demonstration of swordsmanship and unarmed combat. What did you do?"

"They asked me to dance for them. So I did," I laugh. "Heavensbee has agreed we can have Kaycee nearby when we enter the arena, so I felt I needed to say thank you to him."

"I trust you had your clothes on when you danced. I wouldn't put it past that lot to insist you dance naked. I'm not certain I would have enough time tomorrow to fight each Gamemaker in defence of your honour."

"How gallant of you. But don't worry, I wasn't required to dance naked," I reply. I don't add that the effects of my clinging underwear meant I may as well have been naked. The prospect of Cato calling out each Gamemaker in turn to avenge an insult to his wife reinforces why I love Cato so much.

I tell Cato about Heavensbee's conditions under which Kaycee can be near us when we enter the arena. Cato isn't entirely happy about it, but I've finally convinced him it is the least dangerous of the limited options open to us. If we manage to escape from the arena, I want to be able to recover Kaycee quickly. Cato and I spend the next hour or so enjoying each others company in the pools. If the security cameras pick up some rather raunchy behaviour between two tributes from different districts, then neither Cato nor I care.

We return to the hotel after the 7 pm roll call and join Jane, Nadia, Kaycee and Lucas. I tell Jane and Nadia about the agreement for Kaycee to be near us in the arena and the conditions attached.

"Jane, you must take Lucas back to Beacon Hill as soon as possible," I say. "Neither of you is safe here any more. The Head Gamemaker practically admitted there are assassins waiting to kill Kaycee and anyone remotely connected with Cato and I. They are only waiting for Cato and I to be out of the way before attacking. If you leave in the morning while everyone is busy preparing for Caesar Flickerman's interview, you might get away before they notice you are missing."

"You want me to run away!" replies Jane. "I'm not a coward. If you are in danger, I will stand by your side."

"But what about Lucas? I am happy to trust Kaycee into your care while Cato and I are inside the arena, but you will be alone in a dangerous situation with two infants in your care."

"I refuse to run away. I'll protect Kaycee with my life just as I would defend Lucas."

Unfortunately it may well come to that. Perhaps I'm guilty of underestimating Jane's courage. Clearly I'm not the only mother willing to risk her own and her child's life to fight for what is right. But I'm not happy about risking Jane and Lucas's lives unnecessarily. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so hasty in accepting Heavensbee's conditions.

"I will do what I can to help," says Nadia. "As soon as the location of the Hunger Games facility is revealed I can find a way of coming to you."

"But they won't reveal the location to anyone," I say. "Even the tributes may not know where we are taken."

"I agree, but a simple tracking device can overcome that problem."

"If they follow the same procedure as last year, the Gamemakers will have every tribute scanned before leaving the Training Centre," I say. "Any tracking device will be detected and removed before we leave here."

"The tributes may be scanned, but I doubt they will bother scanning Kaycee," says Nadia.

It's a gamble, but one which might work. If Nadia knows where we are, then she can summon and direct a rescue party. Having Nadia close at hand would be helpful when we try to escape from the arena. Cato remains quiet and thoughtful while Nadia and I discuss the details.

"We still need a means of escaping from both the virtual arena and the simulation room," I say. "It's going to be difficult to plan anything ahead of time when we don't know where we will be taken."

"We may not be taken anywhere," says Cato. "The room we used for training is set up for a virtual arena."

"I don't agree," replies Nadia. "From what you have told me about the facilities in the training room, I doubt it could operate a virtual arena for more than a few hours. There's no life support equipment to enable someone to stay inside the simulation for the full length of the Hunger Games. And Ariadne would need more than a chair to sit in if she is to run the simulation for a long period. I think the Gamemakers will take you somewhere else. Somewhere where they have had plenty of time to prepare the facilities."

"Fort Centennial!" Cato and I say together.

"That would make sense, but we can't be sure," says Nadia. "Unfortunately we would need an army to rescue you from Fort Centennial."

"Perhaps not an army, but a small well equipped team. That's what I asked Elena to try and arrange before we left District Eight. I think I've discovered a way of distracting the Gamemakers while we escape from the virtual arena, but we will require outside help to escape from the real facility."

"And what about Nadia's safety?" asks Cato. "The last thing we need is for the army to capture her and control both Ariadne and Nadia."

"Ariadne and I are only of interest to the army while they can control us through our sigma keys," says Nadia. "If our sigma keys are destroyed, then the army cannot control us."

"I thought you said it needed two people with the right abilities working in tandem to destroy your sigma keys," I reply. "I'm one, but where are we going to find another."

"We have found her already," says Nadia. "Kaycee has the ability."

"Kaycee!" I exclaim. "She's three months old. How are you going to give her the necessary instructions and get her to carry them out?"

"I'm not. That's your task," says Nadia.


	17. 3-4 Cleopatra

3:4 Cleopatra

I can't think of any way to teach Kaycee how to work with me to destroy Nadia's sigma keys. Nadia has already told me the process, but it isn't a straightforward set of actions. It must surely be beyond the capabilities of a three month old infant. But Nadia believes there is a way, so I don't dismiss the idea entirely. It is getting late and we all have a busy day ahead of us. We briefly watch the television show announcing our assessment scores. Cato is given an eleven and I a twelve.

The next morning Cato and I bring Jane, Lucas and Kaycee with us when we report for the 7 am roll call at the Training Centre. Nadia intends to spend today investigating how the army is controlling Ariadne through the heavy collar around her neck. Nadia is putting herself in great danger, but she is determined to help Ariadne, and only Nadia can decipher the technology used to control Ariadne.

I expected a busy day and so it turned out to be. Twelve hours later I'm sat with the other 23 tributes in a side room waiting for our interviews with Caesar Flickerman to begin. Effie has found a small portable carry-cot for Kaycee, who is fast asleep at the moment despite the noise all around us. This morning's medical checks and security scans went without a hitch and I've been assured everything is in place for Jane, Lucas and Kaycee to be with us at the venue housing the Hunger Games arena. Cinna has designed a choice of three stunning outfits for me tonight and I had difficulty picking the one I prefer. In the end I go for the one he refers to as the Cleopatra costume, whoever Cleopatra might be. It's slightly daring in that it is low cut and leaves my midriff bare. But despite that it is beautifully adorned with tiny jewels. A translucent gold coloured cape completes my costume. Even Kaycee has a matching cape, although she insists on putting the corner of it in her mouth each time we try it on her.

Everyone is tense as we wait for the show to begin. I caught a glimpse of the audience earlier. It is even larger than last year. There must be several thousand people crammed into the tiers of seating curving around the front of the stage. Those in the top tiers at the back must surely need eyeglasses to see what is happening down below on the stage. I managed to snatch a brief conversation with Cato earlier, but the security guards insist we stay in our assigned seat, which places us in the correct order to be interviewed. Unfortunately it means Cato and I are some distance apart. I don't know who is the more nervous; the tributes, the security guards or the Gamemakers.

The show starts on schedule and Caesar Flickerman warms up the audience with an impressive monologue. To anyone watching you would think he is about to interview the guests of a splendid party rather than the unwilling combatants in a battle to the death. Last year the tributes were allowed to watch the preceding interviews on a television screen as we waited for our turn to be interviewed. But tonight the television is switched off as soon as the first tribute, Cashmere, is called for her interview. For those of us left in the room we have no idea what questions have been asked or the replies given in response.

It will take nearly two hours before I'm called as the 23rd in line to be interviewed. Shortly after Finnick is called for his interview, Kaycee wakes and I feed her. I need to change her but the security guards aren't happy about letting me out of the room to do so. They relent soon enough when I suggest they can change her smelly diaper for me if that's what they prefer. I'm allowed out of the room under escort to take Kaycee to the restroom. I can't see or hear what is being said on the stage above me, but the audience is not in the joyous and jubilant mood it was at this stage of last year's proceedings. Perhaps the Gamemakers worst fears are coming to fruition and the tributes are venting their anger at being reaped for a second time.

Although I'm tempted to delay my return to the room in the hope of gleaning more information, I decide not to push my luck. The security guards are not going to allow me to linger. However my return is delayed when Plutarch Heavensbee sees me and comes over to talk to me.

"Good evening, Mrs. Everdeen," he says politely. "You look particularly stunning in that outfit. Cinna has outdone himself this time. Does he have a name for your costume?"

"Good evening, Head Gamemaker," I reply, determined to remain formal and calm. "Yes, Cinna calls this the Cleopatra costume."

"Ah! How appropriate. A valiant queen whose very name had a mighty empire trembling in its boots. Are you going to be such a queen here tonight?"

"I'm not a queen of anything, as you well know," I reply, not certain what Heavensbee means.

"Perhaps not, but like Cleopatra thousands of years ago, the very mention of your name sends shock-waves through the halls of power. Well, I mustn't delay you any further. I shall be watching your interview with great interest."

I return to the waiting room bemused at Heavensbee's strange behaviour and words. It's as though he wants me to spark a rebellion. I need to be careful … it could be a trap.

"So, did you see anything while you were out there?" asks Haymitch.

"I couldn't see anything, but the audience sounded sombre rather than its usual excited self. Do you have any idea what the other tributes were planning on saying tonight?"

"Not for certain, but many of the tributes are angry at being reaped for a second time. Most will have enough supporters in the audience to stir up trouble. After all, what is the worst that can happen to them now? Most know they have no chance of winning these Hunger Games."

All too soon it is my turn to be interviewed. I put Kaycee's cape on her and she promptly looks for the corner to put in her mouth. I decide against trying to stop her since it gives her an adorable charm.

I walk slowly onto the stage as Cinna instructed. It allows the audience time to take in the detail of my costume which certainly looks and feels very regal.

"Katniss Everdeen; welcome," says Caesar Flickerman as he leers at me. I sit down at his signal but not before Kaycee makes a grab for the lapel of his jacket. That will teach him to stand too close and stare at my cleavage. He jumps back in surprise and sits down in an inelegant way.

"This must be your daughter, Katniss," he says.

"Yes. Katniss Christine. She's named after Christine Paylor who was unjustly executed for leading the uprising in District Eight last winter," I reply before he can interrupt me. Caesar Flickerman winces and there is an audible gasp from the audience. I don't know whether it is because few people here knew about the uprising, or because I reminded those who do about Christine's farce of a trial.

"Um … I'm sure that incident is all forgotten and over with," says Caesar.

"No. I don't think so. If the people of the Capitol really want peace, then the injustices imposed on the people of the districts must be remedied. The Hunger Games must cease."

"But the Hunger Games are a debt the people of the districts owe to the people of the Capitol. To make amends for the rebellion. But enough of this subject. Tell me how you feel about this year's Hunger Games being inside a virtual arena. Isn't it exciting?"

"A virtual arena presents all sorts of possibilities that even the Gamemakers can't predict. I believe you and I have had a previous encounter in a virtual world which had a very unexpected outcome."

Caesar Flickerman nearly falls of his chair at my reminder of the disastrous fake interview he tried to conduct with me four months ago. He would be even more alarmed if he knew I was the cause of the malfunction that prevented the fake interview from being broadcast.

"Why did you request to take your daughter into the Hunger Games arena?" he says with a hint of aggression in his voice. "Do you care so little about her that you wish to endanger her life unnecessarily?"

"I care a great deal about my daughter's life. Cato and I will do everything in our power to protect her. Which means not leaving her where your political masters can harm her if Cato and I die. She is a child of the districts and a member of the Everdeen family. We shall live or die as a family. I would prefer to have her with me inside the Hunger Games arena rather than left exposed to hidden assassins."

"Um … I think you are being rather fanciful to talk about assassination. I don't think many will agree with your view. "

"Then what do you call the murder of defeated tributes. There is no reason for any of us to die in real life if we die in a virtual arena."

There is a loud gasp from the audience as though what I just said hadn't previously occurred to them. But maybe they haven't had a chance to think it through. They will have only been told about the virtual arena tonight. There was no mention of it in Caesar Flickerman's introduction, so one of the previous interviews must have let that secret slip out.


	18. 3-5 An additional interview

3:5 An additional interview.

"Several of the other tributes have complained at the injustice of their selection for these Games, but I notice you are not one of them. Why is that?" asks Caesar Flickerman yet again trying to seize the initiative. "Given your reputation, I would have thought you would be complaining the loudest."

"Those in power have been busy spreading lies and misinformation about me … you included. I have limited means to defend myself against those false accusations. Only my actions can speak for me. This year's Games are special and will be a turning point for Panem. One way or another Panem will never be the same afterwards. I did not choose to be a part of any Hunger Games, but I will not disgrace myself by wishing someone else was here in my stead. I do not know whether our family will survive these Games, but no one shall call us cowards. Veni vidi vici," I say, concluding with an ancient phrase I read when I was a prisoner at Fort Centennial, and which seems apt at this moment.

"Um … ," says Caesar Flickerman, stuck for a response to my outburst. "Oh! Our time is up. Thank you, Katniss Everdeen."

I stand and shake hands with a very nervous looking Caesar Flickerman. The applause from the audience is polite but hardly enthusiastic. I suspect I've frightened or upset many people here. However I'm not concerned about their reaction. My comments were aimed at the huge television audience in the districts.

I take Kaycee to the raised platform at the back of the stage where the tributes who have already been interviewed are waiting. I sit in the chair next to Chaff from District Eleven.

"Well done, Katniss," says Chaff. "At least you got a round of applause from the audience. My interview ended in stony silence. I think some of the other interviews did as well."

The audience is in a strange mood. The air is electric, as though something unusual is about to happen but nobody knows what. To give Caesar Flickerman his due, he makes a brave effort to regain control of the audience. But it is an impossible task with such a large audience. Haymitch's interview passes without incident. Haymitch opted for Effie's safe approach and avoided causing trouble.

Normally everything winds up pretty quickly from this point of the proceedings. I think everyone will be glad to get out of here. But this year, the interviews with the tributes are not the end of the show. To everyone's surprise Caesar Flickerman announces there will be an additional interview. The closing interview is with the person who will be managing the virtual arena … Ariadne.

Ariadne is escorted onto the stage by the two men who seem to be her constant companions. She's dressed in an elegant gown and the men are wearing suits rather than army uniforms. There's no sign of the collar or any restraints, but I can tell from the look on her face that she is being coerced into behaving herself at this interview.

Caesar Flickerman has no idea he is interviewing an ARIE. From his questions he clearly thinks Ariadne is a talented technician who will manipulate some machines that create the virtual arena. He doesn't know she is a biological supercomputer. Ariadne's answers do nothing to correct that false impression. At least the interview is attracting the audience's interest, and the unrest that was seething through the audience seems to quieten. Caesar Flickerman even manages to crack a joke which gains a ripple of laughter from the audience.

The interview with Ariadne is nearing an end, and Caesar Flickerman is looking a lot more relaxed. For some reason his rising confidence irritates me, so I try something I know I shouldn't really do. I almost laugh when I see the black cat walk onto the stage and leap into Caesar Flickerman's lap. Caesar Flickerman nearly soils his pants. It's exactly what happened when I destroyed the broadcast of his fake interview with me.

There are several other people among the crew who recognise the similarity, and there is an air of panic. Before the crew can react, Ariadne reaches for the cat and takes it from Caesar's lap. She starts stroking the cat and it purrs in response. I have no instructions for Ariadne, but send her a message that help is here and we shall try to rescue her. I'm taken by surprise when I receive a mental reply of thanks from Ariadne. I never realised Ariadne and I can communicate mind to mind at this range.

By this time Caesar Flickerman has regained his composure. But it's a short lived relief. Shouts and screams from the audience alert everyone that something frightening is happening at the edge of the stage. I can't see what is causing the alarm and hold Kaycee tight in a natural protective response. It is then I realise she is making the growling noises she made when Jane gave her the new toy the other day. I look towards where the source of the commotion is located. I only get a brief glimpse before all the lights go out. I can't be certain what I saw, but it looks to be about four metres long and has wings. A dragon!

There is confusion everywhere. Some people want to leave but it is impossible to find your way in the dark. Calmer voices say to stay still until the emergency lights come on. Seconds later the main lights come back on and to everyone's relief the dragon has disappeared. There is even a ripple of laughter when an announcement is made that it was simply a demonstration of what can be done within a virtual arena. I look down at Kaycee who is giggling and blowing bubbles. I don't know whether to be proud or scared. Kaycee has just created a large daemon.

Ariadne is looking at me as the audience settles down and mentally asks whether I was the source of the disturbance. I indicate that I believe Kaycee was the culprit. Ariadne nods in response. Meanwhile Caesar Flickerman is busy conferring with the technicians. Presumably the television transmission was cut when the power went off. We don't know what the television audience saw.

"Ladies and gentlemen," says Caesar Flickerman after a short delay. "We shall resume the show as soon as the television links are restored. Someone accidentally threw the emergency switch on the power supply. Everything is under control. Please don't be alarmed."

But everything isn't under control. The technicians indicate there is an unknown problem preventing the resumption of the television broadcast. We are all asked to wait patiently. While we are waiting the black cat decides to leave the stage. Ariadne and I communicate with each other mind to mind. Kaycee joins in, although how Ariadne can make sense of Kaycee's thoughts is beyond me. But our mental conversation isn't a wasted exercise. None of us know what the future will bring, but tonight has probably brought the overthrow of President Snow's regime one step closer.

Eventually the technicians restore the television broadcast and Caesar Flickerman concludes the show. After the drama caused by Kaycee's dragon, the closing segment is something of an anticlimax. Which will probably be a relief to the Gamemakers and their political masters. Cato finally manages to get near me as we return to the Training Centre.

"You were brilliant," says Cato.

"Thanks. I didn't get the chance to see your interview," I reply.

"It was nothing special, but I managed to counter some of the nonsense Cashmere, Gloss and Enobaria spouted. They will be our main opponents in the arena. Several others may join them or remain neutral, but I think we have at least eight allies with us in the arena."

The tributes leave the stage and walk towards the assembly room. From there we will be taken back to the Training Centre. I cradle the now sleeping Kaycee in my arms and walk with Cato at the rear of the line of tributes. Cato detects the danger before I do. Four security guards have stepped between us and the other tributes. I turn around and see four more guards close behind us.

"Give your child to your husband, Mrs. Everdeen, and come with us," orders one of the security guards.

"I'm not leaving Katniss alone," says Cato.

"Our orders only relate to your wife," says the guard. "You will join the other tributes or face the consequences."

"Do as they say, Cato," I say handing Kaycee to him. "I don't want Kaycee placed in any more danger than she is already."

Cato is far from happy about leaving me, but with Kaycee in his arms he cannot do much else. I would prefer him to be with me, but there are too many guards to fight. So far there has been no reason given for my detention.

"I'll see you later," I say to Cato. In reality I'm far from certain I will see Cato later. We must sleep in the Training Centre apartments tonight, so Cato will leave Kaycee with Jane and go straight to the District Two apartment. Jane and Lucas are staying with me in the District Twelve apartment overnight. Depending on how we are transported to the arena location tomorrow, I may not see Cato before we enter the Hunger Games virtual arena.

Four guards escort me along a side corridor and towards a room with two armed peacekeepers standing at the door. One of peacekeepers opens the door as we approach, and I and two of the guards enter the room.

"Good evening, Mrs. Everdeen," comes a familiar voice.


	19. 3-6 A one-way trip

3:6 A one-way trip.

"President Snow! … Er … Good evening," I reply in complete surprise. "How are you?"

He is the last person I expected to see tonight.

"Hmmm … Let's dispense with the pleasantries, shall we, Mrs. Everdeen," says President Snow. "According to my Head of Intelligence, you are not abiding by the conditions of your release from prison. You undertook not to involve yourself with any of the rebel movements. My security people are recommending that I order your execution be carried out tonight regardless of the consequences. In the circumstances I felt it prudent to talk with you directly before deciding whether to act on their recommendation."

"I haven't been involved in any rebel movement since my release," I say. It's almost the truth. Apart from meetings with Elena, I've had no direct dealings with the resistance movement in District Eight since the winter uprising.

"Then tell me who is the intended recipient of your coded message at the end of your interview tonight."

"What coded message?" I ask.

President Snow presses a few buttons on the desk and a nearby television screen plays back the last moments of my interview with Caesar Flickerman.

"That coded message. Veni vidi vici. If those words are not a coded message then you will know what they mean. What do they mean? Answer carefully … your life depends on it."

"An ancient general named Caesar said them. They mean 'I came, I saw, I conquered'. I just felt they were apt after tonight's interview. I didn't mean anything by them. They are most certainly not a coded message to anyone."

President Snow turns to a man standing in the shadows at the back of the room. He doesn't say anything before President Snow turns to face me.

"Well I agree the words may have been apt after that fool Flickerman mishandled your interview tonight. Very well, you may leave. But make sure you say your farewells to your husband and daughter tonight. I can promise you that you'll not be seeing them again in real life once you enter the Hunger Games arena."

I practically bolt for the door as soon as President Snow dismisses me. The man gives me the creeps. I sigh with relief that President Snow didn't follow the advice of his security people. Their surveillance of Cato and my activities must be a lot better than I imagined. I just hope his security people don't pursue the idea 'veni vidi vici' is a coded message. It might lead them to discover it is and enable them to foil Elena's activities.

The other tributes have left for the Training Centre by the time I reach the assembly room. But to my joy, Cato and Kaycee are still here. I fling myself into Cato's arms and we nearly crush Kaycee between us. I don't explain my absence and Cato knows not to ask for details until we are somewhere we can talk without being observed. We've missed the last transport back to the Training Centre so we must make the fifteen minute walk on our own. Not that we mind. It gives us some precious family time.

"I'm surprised the Gamemakers don't want to keep us under guard," says Cato as we walk slowly back to the Training Centre. At this pace it will take over an hour to reach the Training Centre.

"Where would we run to?" I reply. "I suspect we are being watched, even if our watchers are some distance away. President Snow felt he needed to threaten me one more time before tomorrow and remind me my entry into the Hunger Games arena will be a one way trip … at least, alive. His security people had some foolish idea I was sending a coded message to the rebel forces at the end of my interview. They wanted to execute me tonight."

"Hmm … that was a foolish idea," says Cato for the benefit of anyone monitoring our conversation. His arm around my waist tightens to let me know how concerned he is that I came within a whisker of being executed.

We take a meandering route back to the Training Centre. There are plenty of people about but the party mood that spread across the Capitol this time last year is much more muted. The revellers are fewer in number, although they seem to be intent on making up for a lack of numbers by doing even more outrageous acts. As we near the Training Centre we pass the fountain with the dragons in the central sculpture. Water is pouring out of each dragon's mouth and the revellers are having a mock battle with them. We stop to watch them for a while sharing a kiss and a discreet fondle every now and then.

I realise Kaycee has woken when I hear her making a growling sound. She is wide awake and watching the revellers' mock battle with the dragons. I sense what is about to happen only seconds before it does. Kaycee has summoned her daemon and it is stealthily approaching the fountain. At first the revellers don't notice the new arrival. Some are so drunk they wouldn't notice if the stone dragons suddenly took to the air. But there are enough sober ones to recognise the threat. A small group decide to attack the approaching dragon. They promptly have second thoughts when the dragon roars and spreads its wings. The revellers scatter like petals in the wind, leaving behind a handful of revellers too drunk to climb out of the pool around the fountain.

It's a very funny scene, but I worry in case Kaycee's daemon is able to spew fire and incinerate the revellers in the fountain. While the authorities are fairly tolerant of what goes on in the Capitol the night before the start of the Hunger Games, they are likely to take a very dim view if people are actually killed. Fortunately Kaycee seems to have lost interest in the remaining revellers and is looking at me as though expecting my approval.

"That was very interesting, Kaycee," I say … not that she'll understand my words. My smile and kiss are more likely to convey my reaction. When I look up again, the dragon has disappeared. Which is fortunate, because some of the revellers have summoned the peacekeepers and a couple of rather sceptical officers are asking questions of those nearby. Cato suggests we should leave.

We arrive at the Training Centre all too soon, even though by now it isn't far off midnight. A final kiss and we head for our respective district's apartment. Both Cato and I refuse to say goodbye as though we will never see each other again. Such defeatist thoughts might prove to be self-fulfilling. Everyone has gone to bed when Kaycee and I arrive in the District Twelve apartment. I change Kaycee and put her in her cot. She soon falls asleep.

Despite the late hour, I don't think I can sleep. Too much has happened tonight and President Snow's threats have had some effect on me. Which is undoubtedly what he intended. I take a shower before changing into a nightdress. I choose a short lacy nightie like the one I wore last year when I first met Cato alone. It brings back pleasant memories which helps me to eventually fall asleep.

Kaycee sleeps through her 2 am feed, which she does on occasion. Last night's excitement has probably made her very tired and helped her sleep through until 6 am. We are to report downstairs at 8 am for transport to the place where we will enter the virtual arena. It can't be far away if the Games are to start at 10 am as usual. Perhaps the venue will not be Fort Centennial after all.

We are all sat at the breakfast table by 7 am. I'm not particularly hungry but force myself to eat something. Haymitch does likewise. There isn't much we can say to each other, and apart from a few words of good luck from everyone we don't discuss anything about today.

After breakfast I prepare Kaycee's things and hand her over to Jane. I'm so glad she decided to stay and look after Kaycee. Her quiet unwavering loyalty has given me reassurance when I've needed it the most. We still don't know if Jane, Lucas and Kaycee will be travelling with the tributes, but Plutarch Heavensbee promised I would be able to see Kaycee at the venue before the Games begin. I just hope he keeps his promise.

We go downstairs early and I manage to spend a few minutes with Cato. No words, just kisses and cuddles. All the tributes are assembled by 8 am when four land transport vehicles arrive to take us to the venue. We must be going to a location inside the Capitol or very close to it. We are told which vehicle we are to board and ten minutes later we are on our way. Since I'm one of the first to board, I don't know if Jane, Lucas and Kaycee are in one of the other vehicles.

The start of the 75th Hunger Games is less than 2 hours away.

[end of episode 3]


	20. 4-1 A difficult choice

Episode 4: Virtual Arena

4:1 A difficult choice.

I and the other tributes are taken to large building not far from the Capitol. Judging from the high surrounding wall and the rusting metal bars on the doors and windows, this must be an old prison. If so, it can't have been used for many years. We are unloaded from our vehicles one at a time. Three guards escort me inside the building and down a maze of corridors before telling me to wait in a small side room. No one else is here and the dust on the floor suggests none of the other tributes have come this way. A guard stays with me while the other two return for the next tribute. Cato and a second guard join me a minute or so later.

Suddenly a screen along one wall lifts upwards to reveal Jane, Lucas and Kaycee in the adjacent room. We can talk to each other but I can't touch Kaycee through the thick glass window dividing us. At least Heavensbee has kept his word and allowed Cato and I to see Kaycee here.

"Are you alright?" I ask Jane.

"Yes. I can't say the accommodation is all that nice, but we can manage. Don't worry about us. Just look after yourselves."

That's about all we are allowed to say before the screen is lowered and one of the guards takes Cato away. Less than a minute later I'm escorted out of the room as well. I'm taken down two flights of stairs to a level which must be below ground. The lighting is dim but its enough to see there is a long row of prison cells on both sides of the corridor. The solid metal doors prevent anyone seeing in or out.

I'm shown to an empty cell, about three metres by four in size, and locked in. I presume the other tributes are in the adjacent cells, but I can't be sure. Upstairs the building is almost derelict, but down here there are signs of recent construction work. This cell has been substantially modified. The walls and the inside of the door are covered with a thick spongy substance … white on the walls and pale yellow over the door. The floor is covered in what appears to be a thick black rubber mat which creates a slight spring when you move. It's like walking on a mattress. Above me, the long narrow panel in the ceiling holds a pair of lights and what looks like a camera or projector. I can make out an array of other electronic equipment crammed up there but I've no idea what they do. The whole panel is covered by a clear sheet of plastic or glass. I feel around the walls for a sign of anything else, but find nothing of interest.

"Attention, tributes," comes a voice through a hidden speaker in the ceiling. I recognise the unmistakeable accent of Claudius Templesmith, one of the regular Hunger Games commentators. "Please listen carefully. Your life might depend on it. The 75th Hunger Games will commence in 20 minutes."

"Firstly, for your comfort, we recommend you remove all your clothing and footwear. Once you enter the simulation you will be unable to adjust your clothing. Your body may not take kindly to operating in dirty and soiled clothing for the duration of the Hunger Games. The choice is yours however. Any discarded clothing should be left to the side of your door.

"Secondly, the tube which will descend from your ceiling in a few minutes is your body's source of water and food while you are inside the arena. Place the end in your mouth and fasten the straps so it doesn't fall out. If it falls from your mouth you will eventually die from thirst and hunger.

"Thirdly, this simulation is unlike any previous Hunger Games arena. You will not be alone. Besides the usual hazards, you will encounter humans other than your fellow tributes. Whether they help you or attack you depends on your choice of caste. The simulation provides you with a choice of four castes; noble, warrior, citizen or slave. Each caste stands an equal chance of survival providing your actions are consistent with those of a person of the caste you choose. Once you select your caste you cannot alter it, so choose carefully. You will enter the transitional stage one minute before the start of the Games. During that time you must chose your caste. If you fail to do so, one will be randomly assigned to you. Your clothing and starting location inside the arena will match your choice of caste.

"And finally, your goal inside the arena is to reach a place the people you encounter will refer to as Saracen's Rock. You must reach there, by whatever means possible, on or before nightfall on the tenth day. On the eleventh day those tributes who make it to Saracen's Rock will fight to the death in an enclosed arena similar to the one in which you fought during training. If you fail to reach Saracen's Rock by the appointed time you will die an unpleasant death … assuming you aren't already dead. Good luck, and may the odds forever be in your favour."

I try to steady my nerves. I don't like the thought of entering the arena without knowing where Cato will be located. My plan to link up with Cato and our other allies, and then try to discreetly disrupt the simulation is going to need a major revision. And how am I going to escape this cell and prison without assistance. I need to bide my time in the hope Nadia can find us and guide Elena's team here. And I hope Elena's team is large enough to rescue us from this fortress.

I don't have any more time to worry about escape. The lights dim and the walls start to glow. Gradually my mind starts telling me I'm in a different place. Before me is a panel displaying four buttons labelled noble, warrior, citizen and slave.

"Choose," says a woman's voice from all around me.

I'm undecided. It's a difficult choice. Cato will almost certainly choose warrior, but I lack the weapons skills to fit that caste. I've no idea how a noble behaves, so it's a choice of citizen or slave. I don't fancy being a slave, so I reach towards the citizen button. A meowing at my feet stops me. I look down to find my black cat daemon has appeared. I quickly pat it and reach for the 'citizen' button again. The cat hisses loudly and I freeze. It is telling me it is the wrong choice.

I reach towards 'noble' and get the same reaction.

"Ten seconds. Choose!" comes the voice.

I try reaching for the 'warrior' button and am greeted with another loud hiss.

"Five seconds. Choose!"

I tentatively reach for the 'slave' button. No hissing this time.

"Three … Two …"

In that final second I press the 'slave' button. Not my preferred choice, but the black cat has never let me down. This had better work.

The location changes again. Now I'm in some stinking and dimly lit place. There's a slight rocking motion as though we are on water. I'm sat on a wooden bench next to three other girls about my age. I don't recognise any of them. We are in a small wooden cell with no windows. A heavy wooden lattice door seems to be the only way in and out of here. I can hear the muted sounds of other people not far away. I'm wearing the torn remnants of a blue dress made of a finely woven material. The black bodice around my waist is also torn but it at least keeps my dress in place. I've nothing on my feet. My wrists and ankles are in shackles and a long chain bolted to the floor is attached to the shackle on each girl's left ankle. I look around for the cat but am unsurprised when I don't see it. No sensible being would willingly enter this place.

"Where are we?" I ask the girl next to me.

"How should I know? We've been at sea for six days. We could be anywhere."

"I got knocked on the head. I can't remember what happened," I say, pretending amnesia in the hope of gaining some useful information.

"Lucky you," replies the girl at the end of our line. "Pirates raided our town. Killed many. Took some prisoners for ransom. Rounded up the young women to sell in the slave markets of the east. That just about sums it all up."

"Just us four?" I ask.

"No. There are about thirty of us. The others are busy looking after the crew. For some reason we four are special and off limits to the crew."

I sit back and digest what I've been told. I thought I had a plan worked out, but I can see I'll need to come up with a completely new one.

An hour later the shouts and sound of running feet indicate something is about to happen.


	21. 4-2 Captives of the Sea Wolf

4:2 Captives of the Sea Wolf.

The shouts continue for some time. I can't tell what is going on, but the urgency and the sound of heavy things being moved about isn't consistent with something normal happening.

"Do you think we are arriving at a port?" asks one of the girls.

"Ssshh!," says another. "I'm trying to hear what they are saying."

"You can understand their language?" says the first girl.

"A bit. Now shush," replies the second girl.

We wait a few moments. The shouting is less urgent and the sound of heavy things being moved about ceases.

"The ship is preparing for battle," says the second girl. "I don't know if they've sighted a merchant ship to plunder, or if a warship has been sighted. I guess we'll find out soon enough."

We wait patiently. Apart from the occasional shout there is nothing to indicate what is happening outside. Then all hell lets loose. The sound of cannon fire roars out. The ship judders several times and the sound of explosions turn our world into chaos. I've no idea whether our ship has been hit or whether it is the pirates' guns which we can hear. The smell of sulphur and smoke manages to override the stench of our prison. Then there is the sound of people fighting on the decks above us. A steady sound of pistols firing and swords clashing.

The battle lasts for about twenty minutes before suddenly stopping. We've no idea who has won. The silence doesn't last long before we hear men approaching our cell. Men carrying torches unlock our cell door and unfasten the chain attached to the floor. I notice they don't remove our shackles and the four of us are still linked by the ankle chain. We are herded on deck and made to stand with the other captives on the main deck. There are dead bodies all around us which a group of men are throwing into the sea one by one. A small group of surviving pirates are clustered by the ship's rail on the rear deck. For the first time I see the larger ship which attacked this vessel. It's about twice the size of this one and colourfully painted. I don't recognise the huge flag it is flying.

"Thirty six prisoners in the cells below," says a sailor to the well dressed man who seems to be in charge. "Eight males of varying ages and twenty eight females … all young. Nine of the crew surrendered."

I instantly recognise the sailor … Gloss! He looks in my direction but he doesn't recognise me. I look around my fellow captives in case there are any tributes among them. I can't see everyone from my current position and the ankle chain prevents me from moving.

"Good," says the well dressed man. "Search the hold for treasure and have the captives transferred to the Sea Wolf. We should make a good profit from this haul."

My brief hope that this was a rescue are dashed. This is nothing more than one pirate stealing from another pirate. I'm clearly not the only captive who had hoped this was a rescue. We are taken across to the larger ship in groups. The man called it the Sea Wolf. I only have a few moments to take in the view before being made to climb down a ladder into a large hold that goes to the lowest deck. It is cleaner than the previous ship but it is still a prison. There are already other captives held down here and the space is nearly full. We are crammed together, which means we have only just enough space to sit. Our ankle chain is replaced by a new one linking all the captives. The ladder is removed and hatch through which we entered is closed. Fortunately the hatch has a grill which admits enough light and air to make our prison bearable. Less than an hour later the ship starts to move. We are on our way to wherever we are going.

I look around me and recognise one of the captives. She was already on board the Sea Wolf.

"Johanna?" I call.

Johanna look in my direction in response to her name but like Gloss earlier, she doesn't recognise me.

"Do I know you?" Johanna asks.

"It's Katniss. Don't you recognise me?"

"I don't know anyone by that name. I think you've mistaken me for someone else."

I don't continue our conversation. She can't tell that she's inside a simulation and there isn't much we can do while we are locked up like this anyway.

A meal of sorts arrives, if you can call a cupped handful of slop a meal. A bucket of water is passed along the line and we take it in turns to drink from the dipper. It's not hygienic but it's that or going without.

It must be near dawn when the ship slows and eventually stops. The sounds of people moving about on deck, as well as something brushing against the side of the ship, suggests we have docked. If we have, then nobody is in a rush to unload us. Finally, an hour or two later, the common chain is unfastened from the bulkhead and we are marched onto the deck. From there we are moved onto the dockside. The short ankle chains make it impossible to do more than shuffle, but one of the captives decides to try and make a run for it anyway. He gets all of ten metres before being caught. We are all made to watch while he is punished for his error. If anyone else harboured intentions of trying to flee, then those ideas are quickly discarded.

There's no sign of Gloss among the men who shepherd us in a long line along the road. By now the sun has risen above the horizon, hinting at a hot and sweltering day ahead. A few of the local citizens are up early and stop to watch us shuffle along. Most look bored at the sight, as though a long line of captives heading for the slave markets is an everyday event. I look at the people as we pass in case any are tributes, but I don't see anyone I recognise. We are marched single file along several streets which progressively get narrower and the buildings less well maintained.

When we left the dockside there were about sixty of us in total, but by the time we reach a compound, which is clearly our destination, I realise there are only twelve left in my group. I was too busy watching my surroundings to notice the line had been split up. I can only assume we have been given to different slave traders to sell. I look for Johanna, but she is not in my group.

The three girls who shared my cell on the first pirate's ship are with me. Then a chill runs through my bones despite the warmth of our surroundings. I realise all twelve of us are young women between sixteen and twenty years of age. Several possibilities about what will happen to us run through my mind … none of them pleasant.

We enter the compound and are locked into a gigantic cage, large enough to house fifty. There aren't any other captives here at the moment and we have the place to ourselves. Nobody tells us what is going on. Once we are securely locked in the guards leave us. A solitary man is our only overseer and he looks more like a clerk than a soldier.

We sit and wait for something to happen. I can't see much beyond the interior of the compound wall. The tops of a few nearby buildings are visible, as are some grander buildings farther away. Those could be temples or palaces. The whole place is overshadowed by a range of nearby mountains that seem like a solid barrier stretching as far as the eye can see. On top of a nearby promontory stands a large castle.

"Do you know where we are?" I ask my fellow captives.

"This city goes by several names. My people call it Beelzebub," says one girl. "The cursed city. That must be Saracen's Rock over there with the castle on it. Home of the tyrant emperor, Plutonius. I hope his soul rots in …"

"Ssshh!" says another girl. "They cut out the tongues of those who speak ill of Plutonius, fourth emperor of the House of Heavensbee."

I nearly choke at the name the girl just spoke. This sounds just like the sort of stunt Plutarch Heavensbee would pull as Head Gamemaker. But the girls are deadly serious and none of them see anything odd about the tyrant emperor's name. To them, this whole situation is very very real.


	22. 4-3 Sold

4:3 Sold.

Like the other girls with me, I'm petrified of being made to stand on a platform as people bid for my body. But we are all spared that horrible fate. All twelve of us are private sales to different purchasers. I've no idea who has bought me. Several men and women were allowed to view us all after we had been cleaned up and given a slave tunic to wear. The sleeveless tunic is plain in the extreme and stops well short of my knees. But it is at least decent compared to some of the costumes I've been expected to wear in recent times.

One by one each girl is taken away by her new owner, or more likely her owner's factor or servant. I doubt any wealthy person would spend any longer than necessary in this place. There seems to be a lot of paperwork involved in this process. While I wait to be collected I recap on my situation. I'm a slave … well I chose the slave caste so I can't complain about that. I've been chained up and roughly treated … not an entirely new experience for me, so I'm not unduly upset about that either. I've discovered the whereabouts of Saracen's Rock … useful knowledge even if I've currently no means of getting there. Claudius Templesmith said we had until nightfall of the tenth day, and today is only the second day. But I take seriously the rumours that President Snow has ordered that my death occurs during the first five days. I need to act quickly, but I'm at a disadvantage without the help of Cato and those who are my allies. Time is not on my side. Elena said she needed up to three days to get her team into position once she knew where we are. I've no way of knowing if she has that piece of critical information yet. I must give her as much time as possible and I resolve to wait until the end of the fourth day before trying anything drastic.

"Come with me, slave," says a deep voice.

I look up at the huge man standing over me. Stefan! My daemon who interacts with Nadia. His presence must mean Nadia knows where we are! She herself may be nearby, although I hope she is being careful. Our escape from this arena could be one small step closer.

Although Stefan is created by my own mind, he certainly doesn't act friendly towards me. I stand and stare at him. His rippling muscles and bare chest give me goose-bumps … well, hey! He is my creation … but the wicked looking whip he carries coiled on his belt is nothing to laugh about. My tardiness in responding to his order gives him the excuse to unfurl his whip.

"Move faster, slave, or feel the taste of this on your back," growls Stefan.

I don't know if he would use the whip on me, but I decide not to find out the hard way. I'm escorted out of the compound and practically frogmarched along the streets to wherever we are going. At least I'm not shackled and I find my freedom of movement intoxicating. Only a fool would try to escape here. Apart from Stefan's deadly accuracy with a whip, I would only be running into more trouble. My costume broadcasts my status among these people. Even I know a runaway slave would stand little chance of making it out of this city.

Our destination is a large house in one of the better parts of town. We don't use the front entrance and I'm shown down a some steps to what I assume is the servant's entrance underneath the main house. Stefan knocks on the door and after a few moments it is opened by a young boy dressed in a male version of my tunic. Stefan shoves me through the door and into a wide corridor.

"Your master wishes to see you at once," says Stefan as he guides me along a series of passageways and up a flight of stairs. The similarity in the layout of this house and that of the main house at Beacon Hill in District Eight is not lost on me.

Finally we reach a room with a plush carpet and expensive looking artwork around the walls. A more fanciful version of the Colonel's office at Beacon Hill. A woman is sat at the desk and is busy writing something. She looks up and I nearly fall back in shock. Jane! What's she doing here? Why isn't she looking after Kaycee and Lucas? She doesn't seem to recognise me and, like Stefan, hasn't made any indication she knows she is inside a simulation. Her physical examination of me makes me uncomfortable but I don't do anything other than behave like a slave before her betters. I keep recalling Claudius Templesmith's advice about playing the part of a slave correctly.

"She'll do. I'll take her through to the apartment now," says Jane.

"Do you wish me to accompany you?" says Stefan. "She's a new captive. Untrained. The merchant said she is from the barbarian lands. You know how wild they can be … even the girls."

"I think my husband and I can manage one slave girl between us. Fetch her some food while Cato and I decide whether we shall keep her or send her back."

Cato! Jane's husband? I bite on my tongue so as not to cry out my alarm.

"Come, girl. I'll introduce you to your master and the child you are to look after."

I follow Jane into a very grand sitting room. I see Cato sat in a chair by the window. From his attire I can see he didn't choose the warrior caste after all. He's playing the part of a noble. And my heart nearly bursts when I see the two infants … Kaycee and Lucas. I almost run to them and pick up Kaycee and cuddle her. But I sense something isn't right here and hold my position by Jane's side.

Cato comes over to me and gives me a close examination. So close I feel myself quiver in anticipation of him claiming his manly rights over his new slave girl. He senses my reaction and smiles. But the look in his eyes tell me that he doesn't recognise me. He is unaware of my real identity. Like Jane and Stefan, he doesn't seem to know this is a simulation, or if he does, he can't see me for who I really am.

If Jane is upset at Cato's improper attention over his new slave girl, she doesn't show it. She treats his roaming hands over my body as an everyday occurrence. Maybe it is in this place. Still, I'm not complaining. Stefan returns with a small bowl of food and Cato halts his examination and signals I may eat. It is early afternoon and I haven't eaten anything since yesterday.

"These are my children," says Cato when I've finished eating. "Your role will be to look after the girl when my wife is busy attending to household matters. We have another slave to look after the boy. You are to take orders from him when my wife and I are not about."

"Yes. That will be fine," I say.

A feel a sharp slap of a cane across the back of my leg and I let out an involuntary yelp.

"Yes, MASTER," says Jane sharply. "And anything we tell you to do will be fine by you. Do you understand? You may not have been born a slave, but that is what you are now. And you will be until your dying day. Resist as much as you like, but we are stronger and shall beat you into submission."

"Sssshhh, Jane," says Cato. "Put the cane away. Unnecessary beatings will only lead to a slave revolt. We don't want that to happen again. We should try to provide a more tolerant leadership."

Jane lowers her cane and does as Cato asks. I study her reaction to Cato's statement. She readily obeys Cato and I wonder how much of it is a product of her admiration for Cato in real life, and how much is driven by the simulation.

"May I approach the child," I ask Cato. "… Master," I add quickly when Jane gives a sharp look in my direction.

"Yes, you may pick her up so she can get to know you," replies Cato.

I take a deep breath and walk over to Kaycee. She watches me but I can't tell if she recognises me. My legs tremble at the prospect of her being here but unaware of who I am. I pick her up and am rewarded by a look that tells me she does know me, despite my physical appearance being that of a year ago. Her movement for my breast confirms she wants her mother's milk. Unfortunately, in my current form, I can't provide it.

"She seems hungry. Does she need feeding?" I ask. "… Master."

Jane comes over to me and I hand Kaycee to her. She puts Kaycee to her breast and after a moment's hesitation and confusion, Kaycee starts to suckle.

"If you are going to be busy feeding the children for a while, Jane, I'll take our new slave and put her to good use attending to her other duties."

"Yes, husband," replies Jane resignedly. "But make sure she's clean before you use her."


	23. 4-4 Tears will not save you

4:4 Tears will not save you.

Cato takes me through to one of several large bedrooms in this part of the house. His hands haven't stopped roaming over my body and I'm in a high state of arousal. My relief at being with Cato and Kaycee brings tears to my eyes.

"Your tears will not save you from your fate," says Cato in a tone I recognise very well.

"And what fate is that?" I ask.

"You are my slave and I am your master. Attend to my needs with enthusiasm and you will be well looked after. But if you are disobedient or displease me in any way then I'll sell you to Emperor. I can guarantee you'll not like being a slave inside his palace."

"Then I will do everything I can to please you," I simper as I touch Cato in ways I know he likes. He may not recognise me but the effect of my busy hands has the usual result on his body.

"By the … !" gasps Cato. "Where did you learn to so this, slave? I was told you were the daughter of a barbarian prince and a virtuous maiden. You have the skills of a trained courtesan."

"A man close to my heart taught me such skills. Do I please you?" I say softly.

"Yes. You please me greatly. … Remove your tunic."

I gracefully remove my tunic and Cato doesn't waste any time in claiming his lordly rights over my unresisting body. We normally make love as equals in the real word, attentive to maximising each other's pleasure. Even when we play with restraints, he constantly checks I'm alright with what is happening. Occasionally, though, I allow Cato to take a more dominant role and I permit him to take liberties with my body which aren't reciprocated. What is happening here is a new level of such a one-sided game. I feel uncomfortable with the thought that Cato would do this to any woman, even if she is merely his chattel. This isn't pleasurable at all … at least for me.

As my master, he could ignore my discomfort and continue his assault on my body. But the real Cato is more considerate to others and that trait finally wins through here. He senses my change of mood and stops what he is doing. He looks as though he is about to apologise, but doesn't when he remembers I'm a slave and beneath the need for an apology. However his attentions become gentler and more pleasurable. I moan and sigh in response and my arousal returns. When he parts my legs I am well and truly ready for the beast.

We spend all evening like this. I eventually fall asleep feeling a warm glow flowing though my body. I wake to realise I'm alone in the bed. It's not long after dawn and I'm not certain what I should do. I can't hear anything, but that doesn't mean Cato and Jane aren't in the next room. More likely Cato went to rejoin his wife in their bed at some stage during the night. Once I remind myself this is all a simulation, I don't dwell on that thought for long. I settle for retrieving my tunic and getting dressed. There is a basin and toilet in an small annex and I make use of them as well as taking the opportunity to tidy my hair and make myself look presentable.

I return to the bedroom and sit down in one of the chairs by the window to await further orders. Nobody comes for me and after twenty minutes or so I start to feel bored. The immaculate gardens I can see from the window can only hold my attention for so long. As I wait I hear a meowing from under the bed. I take a look and see my black cat. Or at least, I assume it is my daemon. I suppose it could be an ordinary black cat.

"Hello, cat. What are you doing under there?" I ask, reaching under the bed for it.

The simple act of reaching under the bed saves my life. Three arrows fly through the open window where I was sat only moments before, and bury themselves into the bed mattress. I let out a short involuntary scream. My scream attracts attention and Stefan arrives seconds later. Jane arrives a short while after him, carrying Kaycee and Lucas in each arm. They see the arrows embedded in the mattress.

"Were you trying to escape, slave?" says Stefan in a very unpleasant tone.

"No," I quickly reply. "Of course not. I was sat by the window. I bent down and seconds later the arrows passed where I was sat. Someone is trying to kill me."

"Who would want to kill a slave? She's lying," says Jane echoing Stefan's unpleasant manner. "Take her to the old hall and let her taste your whip. That will teach her to lie to us."

"No! I'm not lying. Why would I lie? … Mistress. Master."

"You are a barbarian. All barbarians lie," says Jane as though that explains everything.

Stefan grabs me roughly by the arm. The black cat comes out from under the bed and makes a loud hissing noise at Stefan. He moves to kick the cat but it easily dodges his foot. Ignoring the cat, Stefan marches me to the door. He stops dead when he sees the four metre long beast blocking his way to the door. I look at Kaycee. She's making that low growling noise she associates with a dragon. She has summoned her dragon daemon.

"Cato! Cato!" yells Jane as she quickly takes the children to the corner of the room farthest away from the dragon.

Her frantic calls attract Cato's attention and he comes barrelling into the room with a curved sword in his hand. The dragon is between us but makes no move to defend itself against Cato. Uncertain how to attack the dragon, Cato hesitates at the door.

"Stand perfectly still," I call. "It won't attack if you leave it alone."

At least, I don't think it will. I know from experience that once a daemon is summoned it will act independently until it feels it is no longer required. I have no control over Stefan or the black cat, so it is reasonable to assume Kaycee has no control over the dragon.

"You're a witch!" cries Jane. "You summoned the beast. You are evil. Lock her up in the deepest dungeon, Stefan."

Stefan makes a move to take hold of my arm again. The second he touches me the dragon reacts with a roar. Stefan wisely lets go of my arm. Cato runs forward to fight the dragon but a swift flick of the dragon's tail knocks Cato off his feet. He is stunned but is otherwise unharmed.

"Stop this!" I cry. "Someone will get killed if we don't all calm down. The dragon won't attack if we just stay calm."

I've no idea how we are going to resolve this impasse. Fortunately Jane seems to have a flash of inspiration and her hostility towards me seems to evaporate.

"The girl is right," says Jane. "Cato, please go through to the sitting room. We will join you shortly."

Cato looks at Jane in disbelief but strangely doesn't argue with her order. He walks out of the room leaving the sword behind in case it is needed.

"Slave, come here and take my children through to the sitting room."

Like Cato, I'm bemused by Jane's sudden change in behaviour, but do as she asks. I take Kaycee and Lucas in my arms and walk out of the room, passing less than a metre from the dragon on my way out. The dragon simply watches and doesn't move. Stefan and then Jane joins us a short while later. The dragon and the black cat remain in the bedroom. It was an extraordinary thing to do, and a huge leap of faith on Jane's part.

Jane retrieves Kaycee and Lucas from my arms and places them inside a playpen in the corner of the sitting room. The two children start to play happily as though nothing has just occurred.

"Stefan, I want you to stand behind the slave and keep an eye on her," says Jane. "If she tries to interfere then you are to hold her. Use your whip only if absolutely necessary."

Stefan moves into position behind me but doesn't touch me. His whip is still coiled and fastened to his belt, but I know how quickly he can bring it into action. I wait patiently to see what Jane is going to do.

"Cato, my beloved husband. I want you to make passionate love to me in front of this slave," says Jane as she unfastens the clasps on her dress.

I look on in horror as Cato seems ready to comply with Jane's request. Not only comply, but undertake the task with enthusiasm. This must be Jane's revenge for what happened earlier, but why now? She didn't seem unduly concerned when Cato took me into the bedroom. I would imagine such licentious behaviour is not uncommon in this sort of society. Why does she see it as important to humiliate me in this way?

My patience begins to snap when Cato helps Jane remove the last of her clothing. While he hasn't undressed yet, I can see the beast is ready for action. Why? Why is this happening? Why are Kaycee and I the only ones who seem to realise this is a simulation? What is the simulation trying to do?


	24. 4-5 A powerful lord and a slave girl

4:5 A powerful lord and a slave girl.

My patience is near breaking point as Cato draws Jane's naked body towards him. I can't bear to watch. I look towards the playpen where Kaycee and Lucas are happily playing, oblivious to what is happening on this side of the room. Why is this happening? What can be going on with the simulation?

Jane is deliberately trying to humiliate me by slowly undressing Cato while gyrating on his lap. I notice Cato isn't as rough with her as he was with me only a few hours ago. My emotions are reaching boiling point. I try to think of something else just to take my mind off what I am seeing.

"Stand still and watch, slave," says Stefan. "If you don't like it then you know the alternative."

What alternative? The feel of Stefan's whip on my back. Hardly an alternative I would consider. But I can't stand here and watch Cato make love to Jane before my eyes. It's too much to expect me to bear. Whoever is controlling the simulation has a cruel and sadistic streak … or is this being done simply to humiliate me for the amusement of the audience.

If only I could seize control of the simulation. I could do that if the collar around Ariadne's neck was removed. I can't override the army technicians command while they have control of Ariadne through the collar. However, Nadia said the collar didn't fully control Ariadne. If only there was a way for me to override the army technician's control. I don't need to control the whole simulation … just my immediate surroundings. I suppose I could at least try. Perhaps Ariadne is using her limited free will to try and goad me into seizing control of this part of the simulation. But how do I go about it?

As if in answer to my thoughts, the black cat walks across the far side of the room towards the playpen. I quickly work out what I want to happen and mentally send my instructions to Ariadne through the black cat. The cat stops and sits down. After a few seconds it stands up again and continues on its walk. I look around to see if what I wanted to happen is about to occur. No. The tall expensive looking vase I wanted to topple over and smash onto the floor remains firmly in place. That distraction isn't going to occur.

But all is not lost. I had planned to stop Cato and Jane from continuing their lovemaking by providing a distraction in the form of a broken vase. The vase hasn't toppled, but something has stopped Cato and Jane in their tracks. Perhaps it is something I've done. Suddenly Jane gives Cato an almighty slap across his face. Ouch! I bet that hurt.

"You're a married man, Cato," shouts Jane. "I'll not jeopardise our friendship by cavorting about with you. What would Katniss think?"

Cato looks stunned as he rubs his cheek. It only takes me a couple of seconds to realise Jane has suddenly become aware that she's inside the simulation, while Cato still remains under its spell. Jane leaps off Cato's lap and turns to run away. She suddenly sees me and freezes in horror.

"Katniss! I'm so sorry," stammers Jane. "I didn't know what I was doing. Please forgive me."

"Ssshhh, Jane. It's alright," I reply quietly. "Don't make a fuss. It was the simulation making you do what you did. But we are being watched, so calm yourself and act normally. You are a noble lady and I am your slave. Cato is your husband."

Jane quickly dresses while Cato regains his senses. I make a move to head off any reaction from Cato to Jane's assault, but Stefan holds me by my shoulder and makes me stand still.

"What has got into your head, wife!" snaps Cato to Jane. "Who is Katniss?"

"Er … Um …," stammers Jane, pointing towards me.

"The slave? But you've only just met. I haven't given her a name yet. And what makes you think she and I are married?"

"Er … Um …," continues Jane before opting to run and check on the children. An unnecessary task but one which gets her away from Cato. With Jane fleeing the scene, Cato walks towards me.

"Are you a witch, slave?" asks Cato as he looks me in the eye. "Have you cast a spell on my wife? We don't take kindly to witches in this city. We burn them at the stake in the public square."

This isn't going well at all. If only I could free Cato from the hold the simulation has over his mind.

"I'm no witch," I reply. "If you are looking for the cause of what is troubling your wife, you need to look for the evil that resides elsewhere in this domain."

"She's right, Cato," says Jane, finally having found something to say. "We have all been put under a spell. But she and I have somehow broken free of the spell."

Cato looks very confused as though his mind is being torn in two directions. He must sense the truth of our words, but whoever is controlling him is stronger.

"Nonsense, Jane. Everything is as it should be," announces Cato. "Stefan, please fetch a doctor to tend to my wife's illness."

Stefan lets go of me and leaves the room to carry out Cato's order. Jane returns to minding Kaycee and Lucas. Which leaves Cato and I staring at each other, both wondering what will happen next. If only I can make him remember something from outside the simulation. It might unlock his memories and help him break free of the simulation's control.

I mentally run through the different preparations listed in the harem keeper's journal in the hope of remembering one which I can perform here and now without needing a special costume or props. One comes to mind, although it isn't one of Cato's favourites. But he might recognise it nonetheless.

"What are you doing, slave?" asks Cato as I begin my routine. The harem keeper's journal contains a diverse list of ways a girl should be prepared for the delectation of her lord and master. I've no idea when this particular preparation would normally be used. It's feels more like an incitement to dance than to have sex.

"Does this please you, master," I simper. "I know many other routines if you wish me to perform them."

My performance must be having an effect on Cato, because he suddenly grabs my wrist and hauls me into the bedroom. There's no sign of the dragon but the three arrows are still lodged in the mattress. Cato quickly removes them and swings me onto the bed. He has a feral look in his eyes. I know what he wants and I guess there isn't going to be any foreplay. My intuition is right. It's a good job the after effects of our earlier coupling haven't worn off entirely.

To anyone watching this is the classic scene where a powerful lord slates his lust on his helpless slave girl. Throughout history countless thousands of girls must have suffered this fate. But in my case I am not helpless. While it may seem our coupling is not consensual, I am the instigator of this scene. And it is working. I can tell from Cato's eyes that I am weakening the control the gamemakers' technicians are exerting over Cato's mind. Then … just like a light being switched on … Cato is with me … the real Cato.

"Katniss?!," whispers Cato into my ear. "What's happening? Why are we like this? Am I hurting you?"

"Quiet. Don't let on that you are free of the simulation's mind control. And yes, you are hurting me. Will you release my arms so I can get into a more comfortable position."

We don't stop our coupling, but Cato allows me to move me into a better position. Now that Cato is really with me I feel a new wave of hope. Unfortunately we have more pressing business and can't spend long in this bed. We talk in whispers as Cato completes this scene at his leisure. Cato can remember everything that happened since he entered the simulation, but until now could not access his memories prior to that. Consequently he didn't recognise me or any other person he knows in real life. Also, the technicians were influencing the way he behaves. They were able to strengthen or weaken certain traits to manipulate his actions.

We finally finish our coupling and return to the living room. My tunic has been torn and one shoulder strap is broken. I can't dress decently but I make the best effort I can to cover myself. If nothing else my scanty attire may distract the technicians who hopefully haven't noticed they have lost control of Cato.

My new found confidence takes a major blow when Cato and I return to the sitting room.


	25. 4-6 Spies

4:6 Spies.

Six armed men are standing in the middle of the room with their swords drawn ready for battle. Jane is in the corner shielding Kaycee and Lucas with her body but the soldiers are paying no attention to them. They are clearly after Cato or I … or both of us.

"Lord Everdeen," says one of the soldiers. "You and your wife are charged with being spies for the foreign queen. This slave is also suspected of being a courier for the queen's spy-master. You are all to come with us for interrogation."

"What foreign queen?" asks Cato.

"There is only one foreign queen. Emperor Plutonius has forbidden any mention her name, as you well know. Your question betrays you. Perhaps we shall kill you all here and now and save the torturer the trouble."

"Cleopatra," I say on a wild hunch in answer to Cato's question. Plutarch Heavensbee knew of an ancient queen by that name who terrified a mighty empire. It would be the sort of showman's trick he would pull.

"Curse you! You have all forfeited your lives. Kill them!" orders the soldier to his comrades.

In a flash Cato grabs his sword, but against six well armed men he stands little chance of defending us. Jane and I have no weapons and can only resort to unarmed combat against large men with blades. My alternative is to seize control of the simulation and stop these men. But my cat isn't in sight. I try sending a command to Ariadne but without the presence of the black cat, my range is limited. My command doesn't seem to have any effect. The soldiers move into a semi-circle around Cato so their attacks don't interfere with each other. Clearly they are trained warriors.

I move towards Jane and take hold of Kaycee. Kaycee must sense the fear emanating from Jane and I as she starts to whimper and cry. Lucas is doing the same in Jane's arms. Cato is moving about, looking for a chance to strike without being hit in return. But the soldiers are too disciplined to give him an opening. Slowly they manoeuvre Cato back towards the corner where Jane and I are shielding the children.

Then it happens. One second we are facing imminent death, the next the six soldiers are nothing but charred pieces of armour. The smell and the smoke causes us all to cough and wheeze. Kaycee's dragon has appeared and made short work of our assailants. Nothing but their metal weapons and armour remain.

"Nice trick," says Cato, perhaps not fully realising the implications of what Kaycee has achieved.

'You are still in great danger' comes a mental message only I can hear. Ariadne! The technicians control over Ariadne must be weakening. 'You must flee into the upper city before more soldiers arrive. Don't try communicating with me again or the technicians may detect the breach in their security wall around me. You'll know when to make your next move.'

I don't have time to reply before I sense the mental link is broken. I hope it is Ariadne who has cut the link and not those trying to control her. When I look around me I see the dragon has gone, as have the smouldering remains of the soldiers. All that is left is a strong smell of smoke.

"We must go to the upper city at once," I say. "Do you know the way?"

"The upper city? Yes, I know the way, but I would have thought the area around the harbour would be safer," replies Cato.

"No. My guide says we should go to the upper city. Come on."

"Here. Put this on, Katniss," says Jane, handing me a silk scarf which is just large enough to wrap around my chest and make myself decent. Jane busies herself gathering items we will need for the children and Cato is grabbing anything else we can carry that might be useful. The scarf is a tight fit and I have to settle for knotting it in front of me rather than behind. It shows off rather a lot of cleavage and I'll have to be careful I don't breath too hard or I'll send it flying. But it's better than my torn tunic alone.

Five minutes later the five of us leave the house by a back entrance. From the commotion in the street at the front of the house, our departure is none too soon. Our escape is not without a few close calls. The Gamemakers are deadly serious in their attempts to kill Cato and I today. A man tries to stab me with a knife as we wind our way through the crowds, but Cato sees the danger in time and leaves the man with three fewer fingers. A flower girl tries to kill me by thrusting a dagger disguised by a bunch of flowers at me. A sixth sense warns me in time to thwart her attempt.

The Gamemakers could simply enter the cells where our real selves are located and kill us in real life. But the Hunger Games are watched by nearly all of Panem. The sudden death of a tribute in real life would cause the their immediate death inside the arena. An unexplainable death would attract too much attention. Not only would it anger the people in the districts, but draw accusations from the large gambling syndicates that the Games are rigged. Far better from the Gamemakers point of view for Cato and I to meet our deaths in the arena through a plausible cause. We can then be executed inside our cells in real life without any fuss.

We walk briskly up the hill leading to the upper city. It's a much newer part of the city and the citizens here are more affluent than those in the lower parts. The market stalls stock a much better quality of merchandise. Overshadowing the upper city is the promontory known as Saracen's Rock. The castle which covers a large part of the rock looks menacing and impregnable. I can see a narrow winding access road leading from the upper city to the castle gate. A besieging army would have great difficulty in storming the castle.

"This is the upper city," says Cato. "Where do we go now?"

"We don't," I reply. "We must hide here for the time being. Do you know of anywhere suitable."

"How do we hide anywhere when the Gamemakers and their technicians control the simulation and can track us wherever we are?" asks Jane.

"I don't know. I was told to bring us here by someone I trust. But we must remain alert."

I'm still being careful about what I say and avoid using Ariadne's name. Anyone monitoring our conversation would raise an alarm if they knew we are aware we are inside a simulation.

"There's an inn over there," says Cato. "We could ask if they have any rooms. If not, we can at least have breakfast."

We enter the inn and go over to the bar. It's still early in the morning and the inn isn't particularly busy. There is no sign of any threat. Cato finds the landlord and I nearly laugh when I see it is Beetee. Unfortunately Beetee doesn't recognise us, which means he is unaware we are inside a simulation. He says he can provide a room for Lord Everdeen and his wife and children but is adamant a slave must stay in the outhouse at the back. Cato is at the point of refusing and taking us elsewhere, but I have a feeling that wherever we go we will get the same response. I feel safer knowing one of our allies is nearby, even if Beetee isn't aware of who we are.

"It's alright. I'll be alright in the outhouse," I say to Cato.

"I will inspect this outhouse before agreeing to accept your hospitality, innkeeper," says Cato to Beetee in his best arrogant tone. "I'll not have my favourite concubine kept in some squalid hovel."

I wait with Jane and the children while Cato goes with Beetee out the back of the inn. They return a minute or so later.

"It will do," says Cato. "But I want her well fed and allowed to wash."

"Yes. Yes, my lord," says Beetee. "Allow me to show you to your room. It's the finest in the upper city. Maggie! Maggie! Look after Lord Everdeen's slave. Feed her in the kitchen and then take her to the outhouse."

A woman comes out of the kitchen in response to Beetee's call. It is none other than Mags from District Four … and like Beetee, she's a very much younger Mags than the one in real life. But she too is oblivious to our identity. Cato, Jane and the children go upstairs with Beetee while I follow Mags to the kitchen. I continue to act consistent with the status of my chosen caste although I've no idea whether it is making any difference to how those around me behave towards me.

The meal is plain but filling. Ten minutes later Mags tells me to follow her. The back yard of the inn is surrounded by adjacent buildings and a high wall. There's no way out other than through the inn. The outhouse is a small storeroom which seems to double as a lock-up for slaves. Mags unlocks the door and is about to push me inside when she slips on the cobbles and falls into me. Her stumble saves my life. An arrow, clearly intended for me, embeds itself into her back. From the angle of the shaft the archer is located in one of the upper windows of the building overlooking the yard. I grab Mags and drag her inside the room. I slam the door behind us.


	26. 4-7 No sanctuary

4:7 No sanctuary.

"Please don't die on me, Mags," I cry as I try to ease her into a comfortable position. She is barely conscious. I do what I can to help her but the arrow is lodged deep into her lung. I make her as comfortable as possible but I lack the medical skill to remove the arrow. We wait in the hope someone from the inn notices Mags is missing and comes to investigate. But nobody comes. After ten minutes I realise I must do something before it is too late.

"Katniss? Katniss? Is that you?" says Mags weakly before slipping into unconsciousness. Her shallow breathing indicates she is still alive, but only just. I must get help, but the assassin is probably still waiting to take another shot at me the second I break cover.

I look around the storeroom for anything useful. The room is divided by a metal grill with a matching door. On this side of the grill there are an assortment of barrels and crates, on the other is a tier of bunks, presumably for housing slaves. I rummage among the crates but there is nothing useful. Then I see a large barrel lid with a handle bolted across its centre. It might serve as a shield while I make a break for the inn.

I don't have any more time to waste if I'm to get help for Mags. I open the door and throw a piece of timber out into the yard. The noise and the movement attract the archer's attention and an arrow comes flying down and narrowly misses the piece of timber. I make a careful note of the direction the arrow came from and bolt out of the door while the assassin is busy notching another arrow. I hold my makeshift shield so as to protect me from the assassin. My shield works. The assassin takes another shot at me but the arrow thuds into the shield. I jump over a man's body lying in the yard. The assassin must have killed him when he came to investigate the delay in Mags return. I make it inside the inn and shout for help.

"Help! Someone is firing arrows out there!" I cry. "They've hit Mags … Um ... Maggie and someone else."

My call for assistance provokes an immediate response. The two patrons of the inn abandon their breakfast and promptly leave by the front door in unseemly haste. I'm deciding whether to run upstairs and try to find Cato when I see a bow and quiver of arrows stacked next to the bar. I grab them and return to the rear door. I send my shield rolling out into the yard. My trick works. The assassin reveals himself to make his shot. Both our arrows let fly at the same time. His strikes the top of the shield. Mine buries itself into his chest. He topples forward and falls into the inn's yard. I briefly look at his body in case it is someone I recognise, but I've never seen him before.

There is no sign of anybody else. I quickly replace the bow and arrows where I found them and go upstairs. The sign on the wall makes it plain that members of my chosen caste are not allowed up here. But I presume I've already broken one rule by picking up and using a weapon. Being caught wandering around up here seems a trivial breach in comparison, particularly in the circumstances.

"Cato … Cato!," I call as I walk quickly along the corridor. "Master!" I try when there is no response. Where has everybody gone? I try the doors one at a time. None of the doors are locked and all lead to empty rooms. As I search one of the rooms at the front of the inn I notice the commotion outside in the street. Everyone seems to be heading in one direction in a panic. Suddenly I catch a glimpse of Cato, Jane and the children some distance away, being herded along with the crowd. Cato is trying to come back into the inn, but the press of the crowd is too strong.

I run downstairs and into the storeroom where Mags is lying. I'll have to carry her to wherever everyone is going. But when I reach the room I find she is already dead. I go outside only to find the bodies of the assassin and his victim have disappeared. I don't have time to worry about how that happened, so I take off after Cato and Jane.

I can't see them in the crowd but everyone is making their way up the winding road to the castle gate. The panic is rising and several people are trampled in the rush. Older people and children are pushed aside as the fitter and stronger shove their way to the front.

"Get out of the way, slave!" snarls a burly man. "There's no sanctuary for the likes of you inside the castle keep. You can take your chances with the other slaves and riff-raff of the lower city."

Despite my best efforts to continue forward, I'm progressively pushed to the side of the crowd where the weaker members of society have sought shelter.

"Katniss! Over here!" comes a cry. I look up and see Jane and the children. They have obviously been forced to give up the struggle to reach the castle gate.

"Jane! Thank goodness you are safe. Is Cato here?" I ask when I reach them. I take hold of Kaycee and hold her tight.

"No. As soon as the alarm sounded the innkeeper sent a servant to release you. Cato went back to the inn to find you as soon as we realised you weren't ahead of us. You must have passed each other without noticing."

"What's going on?" I ask. "Why is there all this panic?"

"Look out over the harbour," says Jane, pointing in the direction of the sea. "Can you the ships? The innkeeper says the ones with golden sails are Cleopatra's fleet. The city is under attack."

Nearly all of the many ships in the approaches to the harbour have golden sails. Those that don't are either burning or trying to get out of the way. I see what I think is the Sea Wolf. Its colourful paintwork and large distinctive flag stand out even at this distance. It is one of the ships trying to evade the approaching fleet.

"What are we going to do?" asks Jane.

"We must find Cato," I reply. "Going back to the inn may be our safest option at the moment."

Sitting here simply makes us an easy target for an assassin. I don't fool myself into thinking I've rid myself of that problem. We work our way back to the inn, meeting Cato on our way. He was returning to Jane to report his failure to find me, and to take them to safety. Cato and I greet each other with a kiss and embrace. The crowd has thinned and most of those who are left are the older and weaker citizens. There are many abandoned children and slaves.

"Cato, you are a noble so must take charge. I suggest you order the slaves to gather the children together and have them all come with us," I say. "We must find shelter before the streets are filled with fighting."

Cato does as I suggest but only after I add the honorific "Master" to my statement. I suppose I shouldn't complain. I have just insisted he carry on acting consistent to his caste, so I must do the same. Ten minutes later we are back at the inn with ten slaves and twelve additional children in tow. The children vary in age between four and twelve. The slaves are a mixture of house slaves and manual workers. We have the inn to ourselves. The kitchen is well stocked with food and there are enough rooms to house everyone inside the inn. Cato allocates tasks to all the slaves, including me. I am ordered to care for the younger children while Jane is organising the older ones.

For the next few hours we keep ourselves busy preparing ourselves for almost any event. During that time three more children and one slave find their way us. The streets outside are deserted. Those who haven't made it to the castle, must be hiding like us. We have water buckets filled, both for drinking and in case of fire. Food is cooked and stored. Windows are shuttered and tables arranged into a barricade to shelter the children. Our small arsenal of weapons is cleaned and prepared, although only Cato carries a weapon on him. The sound of fighting can be heard from the lower parts of the city but it is still some distance from us.

As the sun begins to set, after hours of fighting, there is a sudden pause followed by shouting and the sound of many running feet. Cato risks a peek through a gap in the shutters.

"The defenders are fleeing for the castle," says Cato. "The attackers must have broken through the defences in the lower city. Get the children behind the barricade."

Jane, I and two of the slave women gather the children and make them comfortable behind the makeshift shelters. Cato hands a long knife to Jane and leaves two daggers within reach. I follow Cato and pick up the bow and arrows again. I stand by his side as we wait to see what happens next.

One moment it is quiet and the next everything is in chaos. A brief shout from the slave watching the rear yard is the only warning we get that soldiers have scaled the high wall and are entering the inn through the back door. They burst into the room and promptly order us to lay down our weapons. Despite the fact we outnumber the soldiers, only Cato, Jane and I have had any training with weapons. And a fight would risk harming the children.

"Put down your weapons. Cato. Katniss. Jane," says a familiar voice. "The rescue squad you ordered has arrived."

"Elena!" I cry in pleasant surprise.

Then the scene disappears and I'm alone in my padded cell. I'm out of the simulation. Now we must escape from our cells, and this prison, and get back safely to District Eight.

[end of episode 4]


	27. 5-1 Rescued or kidnapped?

Episode 5: Breakout

5:1 Rescued or kidnapped?

Other than Elena's brief comment that she and her rescue team have arrived, I've no idea what is happening. I'm out of the 75th Hunger Games simulation and back in the real world. As the overhead lighting gradually increases I see I'm still inside the padded cell where I was before I entered the simulation. I can't hear any sound and the door remains locked. The clothes I discarded before I entered the simulation two and a half days ago are still stacked where I left them. I quickly dress and make myself decent.

My immediate fear is that gas or some other dangerous substance will fill this cell and kill me. That was the threat all the tributes were warned about before we entered the simulation. Only one victor will emerge from these Hunger Games, and any tribute defeated inside the virtual arena will be executed in real life. But I've not been defeated. Elena's team have come to rescue us and have somehow gained control of the simulation … whether permanently or only temporarily, I don't know. Hopefully Cato, Kaycee, Jane and Lucas are free of the simulation as well. They were all close beside me inside the simulation when Elena and her team arrived, but I returned to real life before I could respond to Elena's greeting. And just because we were in close proximity inside the arena, doesn't mean we are anywhere near each other inside this prison complex.

"Can anyone hear me?" I call out. "Is anyone there?"

No response, either from outside my cell or from anyone monitoring this cell from the control room. I feel I must do something but there doesn't seem to be anything I can do. I can only hope Elena and her team can find my cell and unlock the door. I wait for what seems like ages. I'm hungry and I'm tired. When I left the arena it was evening, and the day had been a busy one. Tiredness starts to win the battle. Despite my eagerness to be reunited with Cato and Kaycee I struggle to keep my eyes open. The lights start to dim and the air inside the cell starts to smell peculiar. Too late I realise my tiredness isn't natural. Gas! I must try to …

I slowly regain consciousness. I don't know how long I've been out. When my senses fully return I find myself lying on a bunk on board a large vehicle. The engine noise and the slight swaying motion suggests I'm on board a flying craft. I sit up and look at the unconscious occupants of the other five bunks. Cato, Jane, Elena, Beetee, and Finnick. Like me, they are all dressed in a light grey cotton shirt and matching trousers. These aren't the clothes I put on inside my cell, so someone has gone to the trouble of changing my clothes. I don't feel ready to try standing just yet, so I stay where I am for the moment.

I hear the sound of an infant crying. I recognise Lucas's cry and can only hope that if Lucas is here, then Kaycee is as well. A door opens at the end of the room and I quickly feign unconsciousness. I hear what are unmistakably a woman's footsteps. Lucas's crying is getting very close.

"See! Here's your mama, Lucas. And yours too, Katniss" says the woman.

The prospect of seeing Kaycee is enough to make me open my eyes and risk the consequences. I sit up and the woman steps back in surprise. Fortunately she has a firm grip on both infants, otherwise she might have dropped them in her alarm. She's about my age and dressed in the same light grey clothing. The only difference in our attire is the District Thirteen emblem on the upper arm of her shirt.

"Oh! I didn't realise you would be awake yet," she says. "They said you would be unconscious until we land."

"Well, I'm awake," I reply in a neutral tone. "May I hold Kaycee?"

She hands Kaycee to me without hesitation. Kaycee promptly recognises me and decides she would like a feed. I'm back to my real form, so I can provide the nourishment she wants.

"What's your name?" I ask, working on the basis that I'm likely to get more answers from her by being friendly.

"Laura," she replies.

"Thank you for taking care of Kaycee and Lucas, Laura," I say. "Where are we, and where are we going?"

"Um … er … I'm not allowed to tell you. I shouldn't have come in here. They said you'd …" she stammers, backing towards the door.

"Flight Cadet Rensworth! What are you doing in here?" comes a familiar voice.

"Laura was bringing Kaycee to me," I say before Laura can answer. "If she isn't allowed to answer my questions, then I'm sure you are, Head Gamemaker."

"You are a constant source of surprises, Mrs. Everdeen," replies Plutarch Heavensbee. "You should be unconscious. But no matter. As for your questions, I'm not going to tell you anything important until we are safely at our destination … which is District Thirteen, by the way. While surprise has been on our side so far, we are not yet safe from pursuit. Commander Paylor and her team almost stole you from under our noses. Something I'm sure my superiors will be eager to learn more about. I suggest you rest for now. Your comrades will be asleep for another hour or so. Perhaps you can look after both infants until we arrive. That way you won't be tempted to get into mischief."

Laura hands Lucas to me and follows Heavensbee out of the room. The door shuts behind them and there is an audible click suggesting the door has been locked. Kaycee is happily suckling and Lucas settles down to sleep on my bunk. I can't fault Heavensbee's logic. While I'm caring for Kaycee and Lucas, I'm not in a position to do much else.

'Don't trust them' comes a message inside my mind. Ariadne! But how … ?

'Who shouldn't I trust?' I mentally reply.

'The leaders of District Thirteen' comes Ariadne's reply. 'Particularly Alma Coin. She and her generals will want to use you to further their own ambitions.'

I've no idea who Alma Coin is, but it doesn't surprise me that we are heading for District Thirteen. I've heard enough rumours about District Thirteen over the last six months to believe the district still exists and wasn't wiped out seventy five years ago.

'Is Nadia alright?' I ask Ariadne in my mind.

'She is on her way to District Eight with the rest of Elena's team. She wanted to follow you but I told her she would be more help at Beacon Hill. You must help Elena get back to District Eight. There will be those in District Thirteen who would have her join their army.'

'Are you alright?' I ask.

'Yes. After you and Kaycee modified one of my sigma keys during Caesar Flickerman's show I've had a greater ability to resist attempts to control me. Not that anyone realises it yet. But I must stay here and help protect the people of the Capitol from being massacred by the whichever side wins.'

My conversation with Ariadne makes me realise we are facing a four way battle in the coming weeks and months. President Snow's peacekeepers are not only trying to suppress a rebellion lead by those in District Eight, but both the Panem army generals and the leaders of District Thirteen clearly intend to use the disturbance to seize power for themselves.

Kaycee's attentiveness during my mental conversation with Ariadne shows she has sensed our discussion, even if she can't understand what it was about. Once my link to Ariadne ends, she resumes suckling. Lucas is fast asleep. I check on my five fellow captives … for that is what I think we are in the absence of evidence to the contrary. They are still unconscious but seem otherwise unharmed.

Suddenly an alarm sounds and the craft swerves violently.

"Battle stations! Battle stations!" comes a man's urgent cry over the intercom.

The craft swerves left and right, up and down. The door unlocks and two crew members rush in and strap their unconscious passengers to their bunks so they are not thrown onto the floor by the aircraft's manoeuvring. I promptly secure Kaycee and Lucas in the same fashion before securing myself next to them. Task complete, the crew members leave to attend to other duties.

For five minutes we weave and dodge what must be one or more aircraft pursuing us. The sound of cannon fire and the occasional explosion can be heard over the variable whining of the engines. I've no idea how the battle is progressing. I can't help comparing my plight to when I was inside the Hunger Games simulation and awaiting the outcome of the battle between the two pirates ships. The similarity strikes me as ironic.

Then our craft gives a violent judder and there is the sound of a loud explosion.

"Brace! Brace! We're going to crash!" comes a warning only moments before we smash into something.


	28. 5-2 A lift raft for three

5:2 A life raft for three.

We quickly grind to a halt. Our crash landing is uncomfortable, but this part of the craft remains intact. Being strapped to the bunks prevents any serious injury. I check Kaycee and Lucas and both seem fine. Kaycee even seems to have enjoyed the experience.

I unstrap myself and the children in case we need to evacuate the craft. Gunfire and the sound of explosions not far away warn me that someone is still firing a weapon. Laura returns with a man wearing a medic's insignia on his uniform. He gives Cato, Jane, Elena, Beetee and Finnick an injection. A few moments later all five of them start to regain consciousness. The medic says it will take a few minutes until the grogginess wears off. Which is a few minutes we may not have. Laura begins unstrapping all five of them from their bunks. The medic leaves her to her task and disappears on some other errand. I put the children on the bunk and help Laura.

"We are safe in here for the time being," says Laura, all signs of her former nervousness have gone. "This part of the craft is armoured. We've landed in a lake. We're alright as long as the flotation bags remain intact."

As if to prove otherwise, I point to a slow but steady flow of water coming in through the door. We are slowly sinking.

"Cato, wake up. We're in danger. We need to abandon this craft … now!" I say as I try to steady Cato onto his feet. He flops back onto the bunk … It's too soon for him to move unaided.

"Huh? … Katniss! … You're safe …" begins Cato, still not fully aware of what is happening.

Laura stays with me as we try to speed up the recovery process. The water is knee deep and almost up to the level of the bunk mattress by the time we feel it is safe for everyone to move.

"No time for questions at the moment," I say. "We're on a flying craft which has crashed into a lake. We need to evacuate at once. This is Laura. She will show us the way."

Laura takes my hint and guides Beetee to the exit. Jane and I pick up Lucas and Kaycee and follow close behind. Cato and Finnick bring up the rear. It's not far to the open exit, which is just above the water line. It is the middle of the night but fortunately there is a full moon. The flotation bag near the exit is still intact, but clearly other bags around the craft are not. There's no sign of anyone else, but at least the aircraft that attacked us has gone.

"There are only two life rafts left!" shouts Laura. "They can only hold three people each."

"I'm a good swimmer," says Finnick. "The children are only small, so shouldn't affect the raft too much."

We launch the two life rafts. Cato, Elena, Kaycee and I take the first raft, while Laura, Beetee, Jane and Lucas take the second. Finnick swims next to the second raft. We can't see any other rafts in the dark and the nearest shore is about a hundred metres away. There is a steady off-shore breeze blowing us away from the nearest shore and is causing the water to be choppy. The rafts may become swamped and we could all find ourselves swimming. With Cato's help I strap Kaycee to my back in case we all end up in the water. The small paddle with the raft is not much use travelling into the wind, so we turn towards the far shore. We can just make it out in the moonlight, but it means crossing the centre of the lake where the water is at its roughest.

It's a long hard slog but by taking turns at paddling we finally make it to shore about two hours later. We became separated from the other raft early on, and we only caught glimpses of it during the night. When we last saw it it was about thirty metres from us, but that was over an hour ago. Once we are ashore we search for the other raft. After a short search we see it about to make landfall about half a kilometre away. There's no sign of any of the other rafts on this side of the lake, so they have either landed elsewhere or they sank.

We collect the small emergency kit from our life raft and start out to where the second raft is about to land. By now dawn is breaking and the sky is much lighter. With the dawn comes the sound of more flying craft. Four in total and coming from the east.

"District Thirteen craft," says Elena. I've no idea whether she knows or is guessing, but it is reasonable to presume a rescue mission has been organised for first light. Our rescuers must know roughly where our craft crashed as they fly low over the lake before turning towards the far shore. Two of them begin to land as though they have spotted some of the surviving crew. The other two craft turn in opposite directions to slowly scan the shoreline for more survivors. At its speed of travel it will take the nearest one about ten minutes to go around the lake shore to where we are.

"You need to make a decision," says Elena. "I've no intention of letting them take me to District Thirteen for interrogation. Our allies in District Thirteen have their own agenda in this rebellion. I intend to cut across country and make my way back to District Eight. I've no idea where we are or how long it will take to reach civilisation. You can come with me or you can join Jane and the others and go to District Thirteen."

"We are coming with you," says Cato. "I don't take kindly to being drugged and kidnapped."

"Kaycee and I are with you too," I add, making a point that I'm no longer a slave who can be told what to do, and Cato is no longer my master. Cato at least has the courtesy to look sheepish at his presumption. I give him a quick kiss to show his lapse is forgiven.

"I think these mountains are the ones we can see from District Twelve," I say when we are far enough away from the lake to risk a good look around. It would make sense if they were. When I was at school the teacher once said District Thirteen was located somewhere to the south-east of District Twelve.

Before we left the lake we hid the raft. Since then we have been careful to hide our tracks. So far there is no sign of pursuit. If the searchers believe us all dead, then it will work to our advantage for now.

If I'm right, then we are about a ten hours walk from my former home in District Twelve. If we can keep up a brisk pace we will reach it sometime this evening. The dried food in the raft's emergency pack will keep us going for today. Tomorrow we will need to trap and hunt game if we haven't found habitation, or if it is unsafe for us to enter the town.

We keep to the forested areas and avoid going too high into the hills. While it would be faster travelling above the tree line, we could be easily seen from a searching aircraft. None of us believe those in District Thirteen will assume we have been drowned without some tangible evidence. Luck smiles on us when we come across the abandoned road that must have once connected Districts Twelve and Thirteen. The road is overgrown and obviously hasn't seen a vehicle in many years.

The trees either side of the road provide a canopy to hide us from above. We make excellent progress and by late afternoon we can see signs of habitation in the valley ahead. The coal mines and smoke from coal fires create a distinctive sight and smell which confirms we are nearing District Twelve. Only there is far more smoke than I remember and the intermittent explosions are not something I associate with my former home town. Something is very wrong.

The explosions have stopped by the time we get near enough for a better view. The town is on fire and thick black smoke rises high into the air. Then, in the distance, we see people coming along the road towards us. We wait and watch as they come nearer. About forty in total. I recognise my friend Gale Hawthorne in the lead. I'm about to run towards him when Elena pulls us all into the trees at the side of the road.

"Stay hidden," says Elena. "If they are heading for District Thirteen they will report that they have seen us. It will give the searchers a direction in which to look for us. We can't outrun their flying craft."

I can't fault Elena's logic, so despite my desperate need for news about my family and friends, I stay hidden as Gale and the leading group of refugees pass us. Cato sees Prim and my mother among the stragglers at the rear of the group. He taps me on the shoulder to point them out. They are busy tending to some of the injured people as they walk along. I silently sigh with relief when I see them. I look for some of the other people I know, but can only see a few. Hopefully there are more survivors following further behind. Unfortunately, I fear there won't be.


	29. 5-3 Something odd

5:3 Something odd.

The group of refugees following Gale are the only survivors we see. It is nightfall when we enter my former home town … at least what is left of it. It has been bombed into ruins. I try not to look at the bodies lying in the street. Fearing more air raids, the refugees didn't dare to stop and bury the dead.

"Why?" asks Cato. "Why did they do this?"

"I suspect I'm the cause," I say trying to stifle my tears. "It's President Snow's revenge for my escape from the Hunger Games arena. The man is insane. He's venting his anger at not having me executed before we entered the arena."

"Don't go blaming yourself for the insanity of others," says Elena. "If President Snow has ordered bombing here then he is likely to have done the same to District Eight. We must find a way to get back there quickly."

There will be no trains, and the local peacekeepers and their vehicles have long gone. Our only hope of transport is the mayor's car, which is normally stored in a building next to the town hall. Our luck holds. While the town hall is damaged, the adjacent building housing the car has escaped destruction. In the confusion nobody thought to use the car to escape, although few people would know how to drive it. The first time we met Elena she was driving a vehicle, so getting the mayor's car going is no problem for her. Ten minutes after we find the car we have left the town and are driving west. It is well into the night by now but the moonlight enables us to see. Elena doesn't risk switching on the car headlights.

"Do you know the way to District Eight?" I ask Elena.

"No. Other than it is about two hundred and fifty kilometres to the west of us. See if you can find a map somewhere in the car."

Cato locates several maps in a pocket in the side of the door. He quickly hands them to me to make sense of them. I scan the maps using the small torch from the raft's emergency kit. It takes me a while to find the right map and our location, but once I do I feel my confidence rise. In normal circumstances this road is regularly used so we are able to make good time. At this speed we should reach District Eight before dawn. But we will need to avoid any large towns in case peacekeepers or soldiers loyal to President Snow have set up roadblocks.

I plot a route that keeps us clear of any potential trouble spots, but we can't avoid going through some small towns. The noise of the car engine attracts the attention of a few local residents who are up and about during the night. Most of the people we see must be lookouts stationed to keep an eye out for peacekeepers or military. Our solitary car attracts interest but not alarm.

We reach Beacon Hill about 4 am. Our approach from the east means we don't need to travel through the town to reach Beacon Hill. However, we can smell smoke, and the glow of fires in the town confirms Elena's fear that the peacekeepers' bombers have attacked the town. Being some distance from the town, Beacon Hill seems to have escaped damage. The sentries at the gate are heavily armed and very cautious towards the unknown approaching vehicle. Fortunately they hold their fire until we stop. They recognise Cato, Elena and I, and we are admitted into the camp without any trouble.

While Cato and I had managed to grab some sleep in the car, Elena is in need of a rest. She hasn't had a full night's sleep for several nights. Nevertheless she makes a full report to the Colonel at an impromptu 5 am meeting. Afterwards the Colonel orders Elena to rest for today and resume her duties tomorrow. Everything she and the Colonel have been preparing for the next phase of their plan is ready, but an extra day or so will help, particularly if it means everyone is rested.

Cato, Kaycee and I go to our room in Hut Ten. It's just as we left it before the Hunger Games' reaping. Kaycee is fast asleep and doesn't stir when we put her in her cot. She will probably wake for her morning feed in an hour or so. Neither Cato nor I feel ready for sleep despite being nearly exhausted. Instead we make the most of our private time. For the first time in days I feel Cato's naked body against mine in real life. While we both enjoyed our virtual sex in the Hunger Games arena, knowing that what we are doing is real makes the experience so much better.

Kaycee's demands for her morning feed ends Cato and my frolics. I dress and go to Kaycee's room. I sit in my usual chair as Kaycee suckles. Cato comes to sit with us.

"You look very thoughtful, darling," says Cato.

"Hmmm … I was remembering some of the things that struck me as odd about the Hunger Games arena."

"Odd? Such as … ?"

"Well, firstly, the layout of your house in the city. It was just like the main house here at Beacon Hill."

"Yes. I noticed that, but I assumed it was so Jane and I would know our way around the house. Ariadne was probably using her memories to create the environment. Why do you think it was odd?"

"Because Ariadne has never been to Beacon Hill. How would she know about the layout of the house here at Beacon Hill? Of the three ARIEs, only Nadia has been to Beacon Hill."

"Perhaps she was borrowing some of Nadia's memories. We don't know how easy or hard it is for the three of them to communicate with each other."

"But the military secret service is hunting for Nadia. She would hardly expose herself to Ariadne while Ariadne is being controlled by the army technicians through that collar. Ariadne could have been forced into betraying Nadia."

"Hmm … yes, I suppose so. What are getting at?" asks Cato.

"I don't know for certain. I'm just beginning to wonder whether Nadia has really been the loyal friend she has led us to believe. I'm wondering whether both Ariadne and Nadia … and possibly Pandora … are really controlled by someone else. Someone with their own agenda."

"That sounds a bit fanciful. Who would have the ability to control all three ARIEs?" asks Cato.

"The only person I know who could do that is Sarah. Remember how she betrayed us for her own ends when we escaped from the 74th Hunger Games arena."

"But Sarah had to hand over control of the ARIEs to the army. That's why Nadia fled the Capitol in the first place."

"But who has told us all this? … Nadia. Who told us that the military secret service is hunting for Nadia? … Nadia. How was Nadia able to openly help us in the Capitol without the secret service ever coming close to finding her? Either Panem's secret service is extremely inept … or they haven't been looking for Nadia at all."

Cato is stunned by my theory.

"If you are still uncertain," I continue. "Then explain why Stefan appeared inside the Hunger Games arena. He is my daemon who interacts with Nadia … not Ariadne. I didn't think about it at the time, but inside a virtual world a daemon can only appear if it can interact with the ARIE controlling the simulation. Both my daemons appeared … which means both Ariadne and Nadia controlled the Hunger Games arena."

"Then she could betray us all," says Cato. "As the Colonel's assistant she is ideally placed to learn everything about what is planned. We must find out for sure and stop her if she's a traitor."

"It is whoever controls Nadia who is our real enemy. Nadia once asked me to destroy her sigma keys to prevent her being used for evil purposes. Perhaps that was a plea for help to free her from the control Sarah … or whoever … has over her."

"You can't destroy her sigma keys on your own. I know Kaycee has the ability to help you, but she's too young to be taught such a complex task. At least, that's what you said only a few days ago."

"Kaycee and I managed to corrupt one of Ariadne's sigma keys during Caesar Flickerman's interview. It gave Ariadne enough free will to resist some of the control exerted on her through the collar. We may not be able to destroy Nadia's sigma keys but we may be able to weaken the control others hold over her."

"There's no time to lose," says Cato. "We must tell Elena and the Colonel at once."

"Hey! I'm breast feeding Kaycee at the moment, and Elena is getting some well earned sleep. We can wait a short while before telling the Colonel. Why don't you telephone him and make an appointment to meet him after breakfast."


	30. 5-4 Confrontation

5:4 Confrontation.

The Colonel agrees to meet us at 9 am. I bring Kaycee with us since Jane is in District Thirteen and I've nobody else I can call on at short notice to look after Kaycee. Nadia greets us with a hug, which we return as best we can without betraying what we know. Telling Nadia anything may well be relayed back to whoever controls her before we can take action.

"The Colonel will be with you in a moment," says Nadia. "He is just finishing his meeting with Sarah."

"Sarah!?" I say, failing to hide my alarm. "As in Sarah who owns Le Chat Noir?"

"Yes. She came back with me when I returned from the Capitol. We managed to escape in all the confusion after both Elena's team and the District Thirteen forces attacked the Hunger Games venue at the same time."

"That was a huge coincidence," says Cato. "Both groups presumably didn't know about the other, so the chances of the two attacks occurring at exactly the same time must have been incredibly long odds."

"Yes," says Nadia. "But stranger things have happened before. I'm so glad you survived the crash. It was lucky you came out of the sleeping drug early, Katniss."

I stay silent. I've not told anyone … not even Cato … that I regained consciousness earlier than the others. With everything else happening I never felt the need to mention it. Only Plutarch Heavensbee and a few of the District Thirteen crew knew … and they aren't here. How does Nadia know?

"If Sarah is here, then it might be better if our meeting with the Colonel includes Nadia and Sarah as well," suggests Cato.

"Um … If you wish," says Nadia with a hint of nervousness. "I'll need to check with the Colonel and Sarah first. They may not agree."

Cato, Kaycee and I sit down and wait. Nadia returns to her work. While we wait I try something similar to what Kaycee and I did during Caesar Flickerman's interview. I try a direct mind-to-mind link with Nadia. I instantly meet a mental barrier. I was right in thinking her sigma keys have been activated and she is being controlled by someone. I've no way of telling who, but Sarah is the most likely person. Nadia's mental barrier pushes back at me with a lot of force. Nadia seems puzzled by what is happening as though she detects my attempted link but can't identify the source. Kaycee senses the mental battle and she instinctively reacts. Just as occurred when we linked to Ariadne during Casear Flickerman's interview, Kaycee's mind somehow reinforces mine. Together we push the barrier back to expose … in an abstract sense … Nadia's sigma keys.

I don't know how Kaycee knows what to do. Perhaps it's instinct. Perhaps her fertile mind has learned something I haven't during the months Nadia has been training me. Between Kaycee and I we repeat what we did to Ariadne's sigma keys and we alter Nadia's keys. We have more time today, so we do a more thorough job. Like a twig breaking we can sense Nadia's free will return. Instead of resistance we now meet a welcoming sensation. Kaycee responds by summoning her daemon … the cute fluffy toy that resembles the one currently in her cot back in Hut Ten. Nadia smiles.

Cato is unaware of the mental exchange the three of us have just had and he can't see Kaycee's daemon. Other people's ability to see, or not see, a daemon is one of those peculiarities about daemons that I'll never understand. We break our mental link and I look at Nadia. She is a changed woman. I don't know how long she has been controlled in that way. Possibly months. Perhaps she has been controlled to some extent ever since we first met. I don't have time to ask her any questions before Sarah comes out of the Colonel's office.

"Oh! Um … Hello, Katniss," says Sarah in complete surprise. Clearly she wasn't expecting us to be here.

"Hello, Sarah," I reply in a neutral tone. I don't know what Cato is planning when he suggested our meeting with the Colonel include Nadia and Sarah, so I will let him take the lead.

"Cato and Katniss suggested you and I join their meeting with the Colonel," says Nadia to Sarah.

"Yes, alright," says Sarah after a brief pause during which I suspect she has had a mental conversation with Nadia. Like Ariadne, Nadia seems very adept at pretending she is being controlled when in fact she isn't.

We enter the Colonel's office where, at Cato's prompting, I put forward my theory about Sarah's activities with the three ARIEs. How she was happily using them to provide virtual reality entertainment for wealthy clients at Le Chat Noir until she discovered a whole new range of opportunities. How Sarah's ambition knows no bounds. It's a very plausible story, even if a lot of it is pure speculation.

When I finish there is silence. The Colonel looks towards Sarah for her denial. But she just laughs.

"What a fanciful theory, Katniss," replies Sarah. "I agree I have ambition. But as I told you this time last year, my ambition is to make money. Lot's of money. Revolution and war are hardly good ways to go about that. And if you know so much about ARIE's then you will know I cannot control more than one at a time. Please tell me how I can possibly control all three in the way you suggest."

"By using the control collar on Ariadne and sending Pandora away with someone you trust and who possesses the mental ability to control her … probably one of your assistants from Le Chat Noir. My guess is Pandora is in District Thirteen where she is doing what Nadia was sent here to do … be your spy. I don't accept your ambitions stop at wealth. You want power … absolute power. You will play off one side against the other until they grind each other to a standstill. Then you will take the opportunity to step into the limelight with your three powerful and benevolent ARIEs and restore peace and order. A grateful populace would almost certainly vote for you as president in recognition of your apparent good deeds."

"Pah! I never should have listened to Nadia's pleas to save you from execution when you and Christine Paylor were arrested," fumes Sarah. Her mood is completely different. "Did you know it was I who suggested to the army generals that you might be useful in their quest to control an ARIE."

"Why didn't you try to save Christine as well?" I ask, surprised at her statement.

"The District Eight uprising was much larger than anyone expected and it was nearly successful. Which meant it was dangerous to my plans. While Christine Paylor remained alive the uprising could resume at any time. I'm sorry about her death, but it was a necessary sacrifice."

I listen in disbelief. Has Sarah forgotten that Christine Paylor was the Colonel's daughter?

"You seem confident of your ability to walk out of here, despite the admission of your complicity in my daughter's execution," says the Colonel in an icy tone that could freeze a lake.

"You and I are realists, Colonel," says Sarah. "I control Nadia here, and through her I can control all your systems. I know all your plans and the disposition of your forces. If anything happens to Nadia or I, then Ariadne is programmed to release all that information to your enemies. So you see, I am not afraid of you … any of you."

"There is a fatal flaw in your scheme, Sarah" I say.

"Oh, really? And what is that?"

"You don't control Ariadne any more. I do." It's a complete lie. I know Sarah no longer has total control over Ariadne, but it may still be sufficient to carry out her threat.

"Is this true, Nadia?" says Sarah.

"Yes," is Nadia's immediate reply. My gamble has paid off. Nadia has backed up my lie, which Sarah will now believe because she mistakenly thinks she still controls Nadia.

Before anyone can do anything else Sarah produces a hand gun from her purse. I stand frozen in shock as a shot rings out.


	31. 5-5 Divided loyalty

5:5 Divided loyalty.

The Colonel lowers his weapon after retrieving Sarah's gun from the floor. Sarah grasps her right arm, trying to stem the flow of blood from the bullet wound.

"Think yourself lucky it was me, rather than Elena, holding this weapon," says the Colonel. "She would most likely have killed you for not trying to save her mother's life when you could have done so. I may yet do so myself. But there are more questions to be answered and you can't do that when you are dead."

Despite having promised Elena a day of rest, the Colonel leaves word for her to come to his office as soon as she wakes. We adjourn the meeting in the meantime so Sarah's wound can be tended and I can care for Kaycee. Elena is ready about midday, and by mid afternoon our interrogation of Sarah and Nadia has given us a clearer picture of what has happened. I've never trusted Sarah and I'm glad my instincts have proved correct. Strangely, I can't hate her. It's difficult to hate someone with such huge ambitions and the courage to take on powerful people to achieve them. Although Sarah was wanting District Eight to rebel for her own gain, her plotting at least helped the Colonel and Elena to prepare the people. I doubt the underground railway tunnels would otherwise have been cleared to provide shelter for the people from the bombing. Yesterday's attack did a lot of damage to buildings but, unlike in District Twelve, only a handful of people were killed.

I tentatively think of Nadia as my friend again. While she has sometimes lied and acted against our interests, those occasions have been as a result of Sarah's control over her. I have spent enough time in prison to know the effect a lack of freedom has on you. When Nadia has been partially free of Sarah's control, her actions have saved my life on several occasions. It was she who made sure I was aware of the simulation when we entered the Hunger Games arena. It was Nadia who goaded me into seizing control of part of the simulation when Jane was demanding Cato make love to her while I was forced to watch. My actions freed Jane and Cato from the simulation's control. When I was 'rescued' by District Thirteen's soldiers, it was Nadia who ensured the sleeping drug administered to me was only half strength, meaning I woke on board the flying craft as we travelled to District Thirteen. While the attack and crash landing weren't planned, my early recovery from the drug at least meant I was ready to help the others.

What seems to have caught everyone unaware is the dual role Plutarch Heavensbee played to perfection. As Head Gamemaker he was one of President Snow's most trusted henchmen, but he was a double agent working for District Thirteen. He clearly masterminded our kidnapping … or rescue, depending on your point of view … from the arena. By allowing Jane to bring Kaycee and Lucas to the Hunger Games venue, he helped us by ensuring they were close at hand when the District Thirteen forces arrived.

Once Sarah and Nadia's interrogation is over, the Colonel orders that they be locked up in the cells in the basement. They are the same cells Christine Paylor and I occupied before we were taken away by the peacekeepers at the end of the winter uprising. I consider making a plea for Nadia to remain with us, but I sense it is too soon for the Colonel and Elena to forgive Nadia's betrayal … even if it was involuntary.

What remains to be resolved is what we should do next in light of this new information. The rebel forces in District Eight are ready to seize the last remaining peacekeeper strongholds in this district. Once that is achieved, Elena plans to send reinforcements to rebel fighters in neighbouring districts. Step by step, she and the Colonel plan to remove the peacekeepers from all the districts. However there are two other major players in this game; the Panem military and the armed forces of District Thirteen. Neither seems interested in helping the districts, and so far their efforts have been directed towards trying to seize power in the Capitol. It is tempting to let the two groups fight it out with President Snow's forces for control of the Capitol, while we consolidate our hold in the districts. But that course of action would only give us a short reprieve. Any peace that follows the rebellion will inevitably lead us to a stand-off with whoever controls the Capitol. Many further deaths would likely follow, pushing Panem to the very brink of extinction.

Two of the Colonel's officers join us as several strategic options are discussed. I suddenly remember something I noticed during my imprisonment at Fort Centennial, but until now had forgotten. While the army generals might want to seize power for themselves, the regular soldiers are far more sympathetic to the plight of the people in the districts. Major Ford at Fort Centennial was not the callous officer I had previously believed all army officers to be. And I'm sure he isn't the only middle ranking officer to have similar views. The Colonel is a case in point, even if his original motives were more self centred.

"If the army joined us, we could overthrow President Snow's regime in both the districts and the Capitol before District Thirteen can transport sufficient troops to challenge us," I say.

"Yes," replies Elena. "But what makes you think the army will join us?"

"The army is divided in its loyalty. The army generals must know by now that they don't have full control of Ariadne, so they will be unable to use her to cripple their opponents' computer systems. Without that advantage, and with insufficient support from their own soldiers, they would be foolish to push ahead with their plans."

"I agree the generals may abandon their own ambitious plans, but they are more likely to throw the army's weight behind President Snow than ally with us," says the Colonel. "After all, that is what they are expected to do."

"I don't think the regular soldiers will follow their officers if they are ordered to attack unarmed civilians. We need to make the consequences of siding with the peacekeepers known to the soldiers."

Slowly my idea seems to take hold in Elena's mind and she senses the possibilities such an alliance may hold. After a few minutes of listening to a lot of military jargon, I realise I'm not required at this meeting any more. Citing a need to tend to Kaycee, I leave them to their discussions. Cato promptly follows me.

"I think we have served our usefulness in sparking this rebellion," I say to Cato when we are back in Hut Ten and Kaycee is having her afternoon sleep. "Other than fighting as foot soldiers, I don't think there is much more we can do. Elena and the Colonel have everything in hand from here."

"I can't say I'm disappointed," says Cato. "We need some time together to rest and recover. Our time together in the virtual arena has left me eager to repeat some of things we did inside the arena."

"Yes, alright," I reply realising I'm just as eager to repeat some of the virtual games we played when we were together in the arena. "As long as you remember I'm not your slave, either imaginary or in real life."

"Agreed. But what I don't understand is why you chose to be a slave inside the arena. I thought you would choose to be a citizen, or even a noble. Despite what you say, I think you subconsciously like to play at being my slave."

"The black cat guided my choice of caste. I've no idea why it wanted me to be a slave. It most certainly wasn't so I could be shackled, humiliated and made to submit to your lust. Anyway, why did you chose to be a noble when you are a trained warrior?"

"Ah! Your black cat again! I was going to choose warrior but the cat wouldn't stop hissing at me until I chose to be a noble. But you are changing the subject. I like it when you submit to my lust. I don't mind skipping the shackles and humiliation part if you like … at least, some of it."

"Oh, really? That's very magnanimous of you," I say sarcastically. "Perhaps we should reverse the roles. I can be a noble lady and you can be my slave. I'll let you keep the shackles and humiliation part if you like. How would you like that?"

"Hmmm … I'm not certain I would be a very obedient slave. In fact, I know you would have a lot of trouble keeping me in order. I don't think you could manage it."

"That sounds like a challenge," I laugh.

"I suppose it is. If you want to try your luck we can wrestle for who gets to choose tonight's game. Hey! That's not fair!"

"Fair? Who said anything about playing fair," I whisper in his ear as I hold him in an arm lock.

Cato isn't about to give in and we spend the next half hour wrestling and play fighting. It's exactly how we used to spar when we first met. Our rough and tumble releases the tension which has built up in both of us over the last few weeks and months. It feels wonderful. We are both near exhaustion when Cato finally concedes defeat. My determination not to play the submissive role tonight gave me the extra zeal to win. Cato has the good grace not to complain when I tell him the game for tonight. I'm not certain whether he will like it, but if I want us to play this game again, then I must ensure he enjoys it just as much as I intend to do.

Apart from the occasional break while we tend to Kaycee's needs, we don't venture out of our room until nearly lunchtime the next day. Hunger has finally overcome our love and passion … at least temporarily. Kaycee has been as good as gold and hasn't made a fuss over the strange noises coming from our bedroom. When we settle down for a late breakfast … or early lunch … we hear the news that Elena has left Beacon Hill to take command of her army, and the Colonel is on his way to the Capitol. He is about to negotiate an alliance with the Panem army. The rebellion is well and truly under way.


	32. 5-6 Infiltrators

5:6 Infiltrators

The rebellion in the districts is reaching a critical stage by the end of the first week. The peacekeepers are putting up much greater resistance than I and many others thought they would, although Elena doesn't seem surprised. In District Eight, the air raids on the town are a daily occurrence. While the underground tunnels provide shelter we have very little warning and not everyone can make it to the shelters in time. The civilian casualties are mounting but morale remains strong.

And the rebel forces are striking back. While the bombers come daily they do so in fewer numbers. Elena's forces have scored two major victories in District Eight and there is news of similar successes in Districts Four, Five and Eleven. The Colonel hasn't returned to Beacon Hill after going to the Capitol to negotiate an alliance with the army generals. We have had no word whether he succeeded in his mission, but there has been no army activity against the rebel forces in the districts. We have no news of what is happening inside the Capitol. I've tried contacting Ariadne mind-to-mind, but without success. Nadia and Sarah remain locked up in the basement of the house at Beacon Hill and only the Colonel can order their release.

I take it upon myself to visit Nadia. The lack of news from the Capitol and some of the other districts is frustrating. I can't help feeling Nadia and Ariadne might be able to help break the hold President Snow's forces have on the communication networks across Panem.

"Are you alright, Nadia?" I ask as I enter her cell. The guard at the door says I have ten minutes.

"Yes. I'm fine considering the circumstances," she replies. "How's the battle going?"

"Apart from local news we haven't been able to contact the Capitol or some of the other districts. The peacekeepers have control of the communications networks."

"No. It's not the peacekeepers who are blocking your attempts to communicate outside District Eight. They are having the same sorts of problems you are facing. I tried contacting Ariadne and Pandora without success. I tested the communications networks and found that the block is well organised and tightly controlled. I can't break through the block on my own. If I had to guess at the source, I'd say it is Pandora's work."

"If Pandora is controlling the block on the communications networks, then it could mean she is helping the District Thirteen forces … willingly or not," I reply.

"Knowing Pandora's hatred of violence, I'm certain she is doing so against her will," says Nadia. "It could mean District Thirteen is making a move to take command of the rebellion."

"Are you sure it isn't Ariadne who is the cause?" I ask.

"I'm certain. Since you altered our sigma keys, neither Ariadne nor I can be forced into controlling a communications network so extensively. And there is no way any ARIE would do so willingly."

"Then we need to find Pandora and free her," I muse.

"Easier said than done," replies Nadia. "Sarah might be able to help, but I doubt she'll do so without some deal to give her freedom being struck first."

"I'll talk with Elena and see what she thinks," I say as I leave Nadia.

Fortunately Elena is using Beacon Hill as her command centre and she meets with me when she takes a short break. I tell her what Nadia told me and Elena agrees we must try and free Pandora. But she's against striking any deal with Sarah. I can't say I blame her. Sarah can't be trusted to keep her side of the bargain.

"Do we have a communication link to District Thirteen?" I ask.

"Yes, although it is intermittent. I suspect District Thirteen operate on a 'don't call us, we'll call you' basis. Why?"

"I want Plutarch Heavensbee to invite the Everdeen family to District Thirteen."

"Are you crazy?! You could all be killed. Anyway, why would he agree to your request?"

"Because there must be a reason why Beetee, Finnick, Cato and I were kidnapped from the Hunger Games venue while Haymitch, Enobaria and Johanna were not. I think Plutarch Heavensbee might welcome us with open arms. And once I can get near enough to Pandora, then Kaycee and I can adjust her sigma keys and break the stranglehold on the communication networks."

"You are assuming Pandora is in District Thirteen and that you can find her," says Elena. "But I won't deny the considerable help a functioning communications network would have to our cause."

"You'll arrange it, then?" I ask.

"You had best talk it over with Cato first," she laughs.

"I'm not his prisoner or slave any more," I reply. "He doesn't need to approve my actions."

My comment to Elena is a little dishonest. Cato and I have been wanting to resume a more active part in the rebellion for the last few days and we have already agreed infiltrating District Thirteen would be our best way of contributing.

Elena has no difficulty in making the arrangements and a District Thirteen flying craft arrives the next day to transport Cato, Kaycee and I to District Thirteen. I'm pleasantly surprised to find my sister Prim is on board. Officially she is delivering medical supplies from District Thirteen to help supplement to dwindling supplies in District Eight, but it is a huge coincidence. I can't help feeling she was brought along to ensure we don't change our mind at the last minute.

A few hours later we are inside the military fortress that is District Thirteen. Plutarch Heavensbee meets us and introduces us to several of the District Thirteen leaders, including their self appointed president, Alma Coin. We are asked many questions, not least of which is the reason for our sudden request to come here. Fortunately we have a cover story prepared about wanting to be part of the team who captures President Snow. Elena has made public announcements that the District Eight forces will focus on freeing the districts and she doesn't intend to attack the Capitol. Which means we must join District Thirteen's forces to achieve our stated goal. It's all a lie, but a convincing one.

We are allocated a tiny room as sleeping quarters and each provided with a daily schedule of activities. There's even one for Kaycee, although I've no idea how she is expected to read it. We settle in as best we can. Several of the leaders are suspicious of our motives for coming here, but over the next few days we manage to convince them we are loyal to their cause. A cause which isn't entirely consistent with the interests of District Eight or any of the other districts.

We soon find out why Cato and I were wanted so badly that we were kidnapped from the Hunger Games venue. Our first hand knowledge of the army base at Fort Centennial is regarded as critical if an attack on the base is to be successful. I wish I knew whether the soldiers at Fort Centennial were our allies or enemies. At first I settle for providing some very general information about the base which must be of negligible military value. The barrage of questions that follow forces me to divulge more information, but again I can't see it helping them plan an assault on the base.

On the fifth day after our arrival in District Thirteen I get the break I want. I see Pandora being escorted by three other women. She is the spitting image of Nadia, even down to her facial expressions. I follow them for a short distance and discover where they are going. I quickly go to the creche; collect Kaycee, and return to where Pandora and her escorts are located.

I've no idea if what I'm about to attempt will work. I've never spoken to Pandora and she may not recognise me. Nevertheless I try a mind-to-mind link using the same technique I use with Ariadne and Nadia. It feels a little different but it seems to be working. I encounter the same resistance I met with Nadia when we were in the Colonel's office. Kaycee instinctively comes to my aid. Ten minutes later I return Kaycee to the creche feeling very pleased with what we've achieved. We haven't been able to free Pandora entirely, but she has a much greater ability to resist the control being exerted upon her. Whether she will use her new freedom to help us remains to be seen. I cannot risk revealing what I've done in case we are arrested and executed as traitors.


	33. 5-7 Pandora

5:7 Pandora

For the next two days Cato, Kaycee and I carefully follow the schedules we have been given. We are being watched and it doesn't take a genius to work out that District Thirteen's leaders are still very suspicious of us. For Cato and I the schedule is a mixture of physical training and educational courses similar to those I studied while I was a prisoner at Fort Centennial. The schedules also specify when we are to rest and sleep. In Kaycee's case we just ignore her rest and sleep schedule and let her do what she likes. We don't hear any official news about what is happening with the rebellion. The District Thirteen leaders part with information on a need to know basis, and Cato and I are obviously part of the 'don't tell them anything' group.

Nevertheless we hear rumours. Overheard conversations in the cafeteria at meal times, and heated arguments inside meeting rooms as we pass along the corridors. My attempt to partially free Pandora from whoever is controlling her must have at least partially succeeded. There are rumours that District Eight's forces have suddenly advanced through two neighbouring districts and have the peacekeepers on the run. From what Elena told me before we left District Eight, such a rapid advance requires a good communications network. Pandora must have been able to relax her control over some of the communications networks.

Cato and my schedules mean we have our lunch break at the same time on some days but not others. Today my lunch break is two hours before Cato's break. I'm sat with Kaycee at one of the long tables in the busy cafeteria when Pandora enters. As usual she is flanked by her three escorts, one of whom I presume is Sarah's assistant from Le Chat Noir. I watch them for a while as they queue up for their food. I'm surprised when Pandora comes over to my table and makes a point of sitting opposite me. Two of her escorts sit either side of her and the third next to me. The escorts ignore me, but Pandora looks at me as though she wants me to start a conversation.

"Do you have a sister?" I ask Pandora, knowing the answer already.

"Yes. Two, actually. Why? Have you met them?" replies Pandora.

"I must have met one of them," I reply. "You are the spitting image of her. Nadia."

"Yes. My sisters are called Ariadne and Nadia. How is Nadia?"

"She was in a spot of trouble when I last saw her, but I think everything will work out alright."

"That sounds like Nadia. Always the risk-taker of the three of us. Our governess, Sarah, always picked her for the most difficult tasks."

"Well probably not any longer. Sarah was in military custody when I left District Eight. She might be charged with treason and shot."

I have deliberately exaggerated Sarah's situation to provoke a response from either Pandora or the woman who controls her. I must have succeeded since the woman sat next to me suddenly gets up and leaves her half eaten meal behind. The two women sat next to Pandora look baffled but stay at the table.

"Oh, poor Sarah," says Pandora in a tone that barely hides her joy. She changes the subject before she betrays herself. "What a delightful baby you have. What's her name?"

"Kaycee … Well, Katniss Christine actually, but Cato and I call her Kaycee."

"Hello, Kaycee," coos Pandora. "Do you have a big smile for me?"

I've been trying Kaycee with solid food for the first time and Kaycee is in two minds whether or not she likes it. She looks at Pandora and I begin to worry she might bring her food back up. But she doesn't and manages a sort of smile which has both Pandora and I laughing. Her minders look up from their meals to see what the fuss is about.

"What the … !" cries one of the minders, leaping back off her chair as though the table is on fire.

There on the minder's plate is a small animal about the size of my hand. A tiny dragon. Perfect in every detail and very much alive. Kaycee has created a daemon for Pandora. Pandora and I look on in amazement.

"Well thank you, Kaycee," laughs Pandora. "Perhaps we had better let it go before we attract too much attention."

The two minders must be accustomed to some oddities when being around Pandora because they don't make a fuss. The dragon disappears and the minder sits down again.

"Don't go frightening the child, Pandora," says the minder, obviously mistaking her as the source of the dragon.

"Oh, that's alright," I say. "Kaycee likes dragons. We saw some in the park outside the Training Centre in the Capitol and she loved them."

"Let's go, Pandora," says the other minder once she finishes her meal.

"Well, nice meeting you, Katniss. Kaycee," says Pandora. "And thank you both for what you did the other day. I hope to be able to return the favour soon."

I've no idea what Pandora means by her parting comment until I see Cato later in the afternoon.

"I met Beetee and Finnick this morning. They told me we are all in danger. It's something to do with why we were all brought here in the first place."

"What can we do? We are effectively prisoners here as it is."

"I don't know. But we must be careful."

Danger arrives much earlier than we thought possible. Cato and I are woken at 3 am the next morning and called to an urgent meeting. Beetee, Finnick and Prim are there, along with half a dozen other men and women I don't know. Prim is wearing a medic's insignia on her uniform. I never realised she had advanced her medical skills to that level. Plutarch Heavensbee is in charge and he tells us we are being sent on an urgent mission to Fort Centennial. I don't know if Heavensbee really believes this mission stands a chance of success, but he makes it sound simple enough. There should be little or no fighting. Had it not been for Cato's warning, I might have been convinced by Heavensbee's words. Pandora and her three minders join us towards the end of the briefing.

I had expected we would return to our rooms and be given a chance to prepare ourselves for the mission, but we are told to board our aircraft immediately. Which means Kaycee is coming with us. Not that I would be happy at leaving her here. There are two aircraft waiting for us and we are split into two groups. Heavensbee instructs Finnick, Pandora and her minders, plus three others to board one craft, while he, Beetee, Prim, Cato, Kaycee and I join the remaining team on the other craft. By 4 am we are airborne.

The two aircraft fly fast and low. I look out of the window but don't recognise where we are. We are told we are approaching Fort Centennial just as dawn is starting to brighten the sky. I still don't recognise the terrain.

Then our aircraft begins to manoeuvre sharply. I catch glimpses of the other craft as both swerve about.

"The army anti-aircraft defences are still active!" says Plutatch Heavensbee to us all after a brief conversation with the pilot. "We have been given false information. We are aborting this mission."

Our aircraft banks and turns away. Through the window I can see the other craft do likewise. Then I see the bright trails of two missiles heading towards us. One is heading directly for us, and the other towards the craft with Finnick and Pandora on board. We have no means of escaping the missiles. Then both missiles suddenly turn towards the other craft.

'Thank you,' comes a message into my mind. Pandora! Then the link is abruptly broken. The other craft is blown apart as the missiles smash into it. Pandora must have seized control of the homing devices on the missiles and directed then towards the craft she was on. She saved us at the expense of her own life and those with her.

"We were betrayed!" I shout at Plutarch Heavensbee. "This was a suicide mission. We were all meant to die so Alma Coin could seize power unopposed. I'm not allowing you to take us back to District Thirteen!"

"Yet again you have proved yourself to be a survivor, Mrs. Everdeen," replies Heavensbee. "I trust your instincts. I shall instruct the pilot to set course for District Eight. It is time for me to change sides … again!"

[end of episode 5]


	34. Epilogue

Epilogue

Sixteen Years Later.

Although my real name is Katniss Christine Everdeen, everyone calls me KC or Kaycee. I'm sixteen years old and the eldest of four siblings. If I simply use the name I share with my mother, Katniss Everdeen, it invariably provokes powerful memories in many of those who are old enough to remember the rebellion of sixteen years ago.

Of course I am too young to have any recollection of the rebellion. Mama's journal and her stories have been my only link to the true events of that period. For a while those in power were eager to rewrite history to suit their own purposes. Time can do strange things to peoples' memories. Lies repeated often enough can start to look like the truth. At least, that is what mama and papa say.

Would either of my parents have done things differently had they had the chance? That's a question that often crossed my mind once I was old enough to understand the significance of the roles both mama and papa played in the resistance movement and events that eventually overthrew President Snow's regime.

Spending my childhood at Beacon Hill means I know several of the major players in the rebellion. Elena Paylor frequently visits her ageing grandfather, and she often spends some time talking with me. Her achievements as commander of the District Eight army are well documented, as is her successful defeat of the attempted coup by District Thirteen's army after President Snow's forces surrendered. But her personal stories are far more interesting, particularly her early memories of my mother.

Another of mama's friends, Zoe, is now mayoress of the new city that has emerged from the bombed out ruins of the old town. District Eight bore the brunt of the fighting during the rebellion and the town was heavily bombed by President Snow's forces. But the underground railway tunnels provided shelter and saved most of the population. From the ashes rose a people determined to rebuild their town and make it bigger and better. We are well on our way to achieving that goal.

And other things have changed for the better. The centralised management of food production and power generation now means food is plentiful and power shortages are a thing of the past. Two of mama's friends, Ariadne and Nadia, are senior officials in the Department of Food and Power. Nadia visits Beacon Hill from time to time to see old friends and she spends time with me. I ask her about mama, but she always refuses to say much about what she was like when they first met.

But some things don't change. The new political regime in the Capitol hasn't cured all of Panem's ills. Far from it. There are still powerful people in the Capitol who want a return to the old ways. They want to resurrect the Hunger Games, although in a different form. The virtual worlds created for people's pleasure have opened up new forms of entertainment for the masses. The 75th Hunger Games is still one of the most talked about entertainment events of the last two decades. Even now whole television programmes are devoted to analysing the events during the three days the Games lasted. The mysterious dragon, which first appeared during a television interview before the Games began, is always a hotly debated subject. No one seems able to explain its presence. Usually it is regarded as a glitch with the simulation. Apart from saving my parents' lives on one occasion, it played no other significant role in the Games. When I ask my parents about it they simply change the subject.

A twenty four episode television series … each week tracking one tribute's progress through the 75th Hunger Games … is repeated almost continuously. Four of the episodes, including both my parents' stories, have a restricted rating, so I had to wait until I reached sixteen before I was allowed to watch them … actually I saw them when I was twelve, but mama and papa don't know that. I'm in their episodes as well, although, obviously, I was too young to play any part in what happened. If you ignore the fact seventeen tributes were executed in real life when they died in the arena, I can understand why the series is so popular with the audience. The constant desire for virtual worlds to create greater danger and more excitement have lead to a small but steady demand for a repeat of the gruesome thrills the 75th Hunger Games provided.

Now I'm sixteen I must think seriously about what I should do with my life. My mandatory schooling is nearly over and I must decide whether I should undertake further education or follow in my mother's footsteps and do something more practical. While I love my brothers and sister dearly, I somehow feel special. Nadia says its because I've inherited my mother's special abilities, but she never tells me what she means by that. Papa simply says these feelings are because I was conceived inside the 74th Hunger Games arena. Whether that is true or not cannot be proved either way. I don't doubt the passionate love my mother and father shared for each other from the moment they met. A love which grows stronger as the years go by.

Should a child see her parents in the throws of wildest lovemaking? Possibly not, although I cannot deny the educational aspects of what I've witnessed. While mama and papa don't blatantly have sex when any of their children are around, they and I no longer feel any embarrassment should I inadvertently walk in on them. They know if they want privacy, they should confine their activities to their bedroom. Besides, they take the view that it does a child good to know her parents love each other dearly.

As I ponder my future I pick up mama's journal and turn to the section she added in the first few months after my birth. A section she originally thought she would never be alive to write. I'm glad to have her written words, even though she and I talk often. It gives me a piece of her world at a time when she and papa were in love in dangerous circumstances. A time when her life expectancy was measured in days.

Would history be different if the army had executed mama after I was born? Yes. Undoubtedly. Not just my life would have been different without her presence, but the history of Panem would have changed as well. Few children can say that about their parents with such certainty. The 75th Hunger Games needed a female tribute for District Twelve and mama was the only eligible person. Her conviction was quashed by President Snow only minutes before the army firing squad was due to end my mother's life. All criminal charges against her were annulled. I can understand why she refuses to talk about that experience. I just wish I can be half as brave as she was in the face of death.

Mama's steadfastness during the 75th Hunger Games has been an inspiration to me, and I'm sure to many others. I have no time for those who want to dismiss my parents' roles in the rebellion as unimportant. They may not have emerged as military or political leaders in the aftermath of the rebellion in the way Elena Paylor and Plutarch Heavensbee did, but their contribution to the creation of a new Panem is far from trivial. They chose family life above fame and glory after the fighting was over. I'm glad they did, since it meant having my parents close by me as I grew up. Lucas, who I've known since birth, has been similarly fortunate. His mother, Jane, is a senior nurse at the new District Eight hospital. Aunt Prim is a doctor there.

"Are you going to be much longer, Kaycee?" comes a call from the living room.

I break out of my reminiscing and finish fixing my hair. I look in the mirror and I can't help thinking how much I look like mama did during the last Hunger Games. Which is appropriate since the theme for tonight's party is the Hunger Games. Not the fighting part, but the grand parade and the elegant costumes for Caesar Flickerman's interviews.

"I won't be much longer. It's your fault anyway," I call back.

"My fault? How do you work that out?"

"You shouldn't have asked me to go to the party as your date?" I reply.

"Hmmm … perhaps I should reconsider my offer."

"Don't you dare, Lucas! Or I'll get my dragon to fry you to a crisp," I laugh as I pick up the toy dragon I've had since I was a baby.

There's the sound of broken crockery from downstairs. I rush down and see mama busy sweeping up the remains of a plate.

"Is everything alright?" I ask.

"Yes. Yes," replies mama. "The plate slipped from my hand. No harm done. You shouldn't joke about dragons, Kaycee. You never know what may happen."

I laugh at mama's superstitious comment. I turn to Lucas and see he is simply standing gawking at me. It's exactly the effect I hoped it would achieve. I thank mama again for allowing me to borrow her Cleopatra costume, and permit Lucas to kiss me.

"Ready?"

"Ready. Let's go."

[The end]


End file.
